


Call It Magic

by Meelah



Series: Ghost Stories [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cancer, Child Abuse, Disability, Drug Addiction, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Happy Ending, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), M/M, Mind Games, Multi, Open Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:35:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5396090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meelah/pseuds/Meelah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian wants to start a new life without his parents and Rilienus and moves to Kirkwall. He gets a job working at a bookstore and moves to a building in Lowtown where he gets to know his new neighbours. </p><p>However all is not how it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A head full of dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian finds a place to live and a place to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And you get a head_   
>  _A head full of dreams_   
>  _You can see the change you want to_   
>  _Be what you want to be_   
>  _\- Coldplay, "A Head Full of Dreams"_
> 
> There is a [prologue](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5395799).
> 
> Big triggers have been tagged to best of my ability, I'm adding additional warnings as I see fit. If you have any questions or suggestions for tags, please let me know. 
> 
> E is for eventual smut (update: chapter 6) but it will take a few chapters to get there. Main romantic relationship will be between Bull and Dorian, but there are also other intimate romantic friendships (not sure if I should tag those or not). Call it Magic is the main story from Dorian's point of view, but all other stories (most of them from Bull's point of view) will be collected in Ghost Stories - for reading order follow end notes.

`Dorian: I have arrived!`  
`Dorian: Oh wow didn't expect the smell.`  
`Rilienus: lol`  
`Rilienus: Everything good tho?`  
`Dorian: Yeah good. I'll go and see a place later today, let's hope I don't have to look for too long. This inn is cheap for a reason.`  
`Dorian: Skype tonight if I can get wifi?`  
`Rilienus: Of course.`

Dorian meets the building manager outside, and her handshake is just as enthusiastic as her expression.

"You're not the partying kind, are you?" she asks suspiciously, after she's pulled her limp hand away. "We have a few vets in the building and we impose strict quiet times during the evening and night time."

"Not at all," Dorian says, following her in. "I don't even know anyone in Kirkwall yet."

The woman doesn't look interested, she just leads them to the lobby.

"Bottom floor is mainly the horned folk, the apartments are designed with wider doorways and higher ceilings so they are more expensive," she says, waving her hand. "You don't have to worry about them, none of them are _Qun_." She pronounces it with a long u and glances at Dorian. "I guess you don't have many of them around where you're from."

"We—“ Dorian starts but the woman turns her head away before Dorian has a chance to complete his sentence.

"Elevators work, of course," she jabs the elevator button with her finger. "Upper floors are mixed folks, we got mostly elves and humans, dwarfs don't like to live high nor do they want to pay extra for the space on the ground floor so we don't tend to get many of them."

Dorian nods swallowing his answer, following the woman into the elevator.

"And here we are," the manager says when the doors open and she walks to the first door, knocking it surprisingly quietly. "It's just me, knight-commander. Going to show the apartment to someone."

She pauses for a moment but it's all quiet inside. She turns to Dorian, shrugging.

"Ex-templar," she says. "Can be a bit jumpy so I tend to give him a warning. Mostly harmless, though."

Dorian wonders about the word, _mostly_ , but the manager is opening the neighbouring door, holding it open for Dorian.

"100 gold a month, water and heating included. You pay for internet and cable and whatever else you want. Deposit is two months rent, non-negotiable. And non-refundable if you break the building rules." she lists. "Feel free to look around."

Dorian steps in, curious.

It's certainly different from the Circle dorms Dorian is used to, or his parents’ home in Qarinus. The apartment is not big but it’s clean, with a view to the back alley. Dorian opens the window and cranes his neck to look out but doesn't see anything but parked cars and and elf on a bicycle. Kitchenette has gas stove and a place for a microwave, and Dorian runs his finger on the imitation wood counter out of habit but finds it not dusty, to his surprise. The manager seems more interested in her phone now than in him so Dorian goes into the bedroom. Inbuilt closets line one wall and he measures the distance between walls with long strides - it should be big enough for his bed.

"If I want it," Dorian asks, sticking his head out. "How soon do you need the deposit?"

"Payable on signing," the woman says not lifting her eyes off her phone. "It's not yours before that."

Dorian comes back out, surveying the living room. There’s Qunari living downstairs and his next door neighbour would be a _mostly_ harmless ex-templar — but he wants it. Wants to make this decision on his own for himself and show his parents and Rilienus that he can do it. Dorian clears his throat.

“I’ll take it,” he says and then a little bit louder because the manager didn’t seem to hear. “I’ll take it.”

The manager lifts her head, pocketing the her phone.

“Great,” she says “We can go and do the paperwork now if you wish.”

As the pass the first door, Dorian can hear shuffling from the inside and the manager stops again, fingertips barely touching the door.

“It’s just me, Evelyn…” she says quietly but there’s no reply this time either.

She makes no further comment and Dorian doesn’t ask.

*** 

In the evening Dorian drags his laptop downstairs to the lobby and finds a relatively peaceful corner where he gets decent reception and plugs in his computer. First he sends a brief email to his mother of his new address and move-in date - he doesn't mention that the apartment is in Lowtown, or the building's diverse occupants. His mother will always find out, some way, and Dorian will deal with it when the time comes.

`Dorian: You home? I have wifi.  
Rilienus: Gimme a second.`

Dorian waits and within seconds Rilienus' icon turns green. Dorian puts his headphones on and hits the camera button. Rilienus picks up almost immediately, and there is that few seconds' pause when they wait for the video feed to stabilise and then Rilienus smiles. Dorian breathes out, he hadn't realised how much he needed to see a familiar face until now.

"Finally!" Rilienus grins and for a second Dorian feels a sting in his heart.

"Finally," Dorian smiles back, something in his chest is moving. "I'm in the lobby, they don't have internet in the rooms so hopefully you can hear me."

"It's fine," Rilienus nods and he doesn't seem to be able to stop smiling. "But Kirkwall! Tell me everything. You got the place?"

"I got it," Dorian says "It's... well it's not Minrathous, but I knew that much. Mixed building, though it seems peaceful enough."

"Mixed! How Free Marches!" Rilienus laughs delighted. "You mean just elves... or the whole deal?"

"Whole deal, as you say," Dorian grins. "I didn't actually _see_ the whole deal yet but that's what I was told."

Rilienus leans his chin to his hands and looks at Dorian. "I swear, if you have all the fun to yourself..." His tone is playful despite the pout.

The request is right there on Dorian's lips but he closes them and smiles.

"Tomorrow I'll go and see Alexius about the job," he says instead. "Imagine that, me with a job."

"Never!" Rilienus pretends shock. "Those delicate hands were never meant for that!"

"I'll hardly get callouses from lifting a few books," Dorian chuckles. "I'm sure it'll be dreadfully boring and all that. I'll text you when I know more."

Rest of the call is just mundane pleasantries, both avoiding talking about the distance and carefully tiptoeing around any subjects they had already agreed not to mention. When the call is over Dorian stares at the screen until it goes black, and then carefully closes his computer. Noise in the lobby is starting to give him a headache and he soon retires to his room.

Sleep takes him quickly despite the noise of the traffic outside.

*** 

At breakfast Dorian checks his mail on his phone. One from his mother, telling him that her and his father would be more than happy to help with living expenses so that he could get "something nicer". Dorian resists the urge to just delete the email out of frustration, but ignores it for now. Rilienus has sent him a link to a film trailer which Dorian watches, grinning because it's just the kind of movie he hates and Rilienus loves.

 _You go right ahead_ , Dorian writes back, _and don't tell me about it. Take Antonius_ , he adds and then promptly deletes before pressing send.

There's also an email from Alexius about their appointment today, giving him instructions on how to take the bus to _Bibliopola,_ and Dorian reads them few times and then saves them for later for when he doesn't have wifi.

Dorian dresses up, feeling anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach as he stares himself in the mirror. He looks immaculate of course, hair carefully arranged just as he wants it, moustache tips on point. Dressed casual in a carefully calculated way, copying his mother more than he would ever admit, down to his rings and the heavy pendant carrying the family crest, warm against his skin. He frowns at his image and then relaxes his face to a warm smile he knows can charm just about anyone.

_Right. Let's do this._

*** 

Dorian decides buses in Kirkwall are confusing and is glad of the extra time he had prepared with. It's a warm day and the bus is positively boiling, and he can feel sweat trickling down his back as he surveys the scenery out of the window. Lowtown changes into Hightown and he sees how streets here are visibly cleaner and buildings better maintained, and as he steps out of the bus with two elves he realises that everyone in the bus must be workers here only to serve the rich before returning back to their families in the evening. Workers, just like he's about to become. The thought is strange and exhilarating.

 _Bibliopola_ is located on a peaceful side road and Dorian watches the shop for awhile from the other side of the street. The storefront is black, with the name _Bibliopola_ written with heavy brass letters in an old fashioned Tevinter font, and the words "books for magic users" painted in white underneath. During the five minutes Dorian observes the shop he can see one customer exiting, and she's not carrying anything that Dorian could interpret as a purchase.

He checks the time on his phone and when it's exactly 7 minutes to noon, he enters the shop.

The bell on the door rings and a man sitting behind a stack of books looks up and a smile of recognition spreads across his face.

"Dorian!" he says getting up and before Dorian can reply the man has taken him firmly by the shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks.

All his carefully practiced lines get stuck in his throat as Alexius pats him on the back.

"Felix!" he booms. "Felix! Dorian is here!"

There's shuffling in the back and then a young man with a shaved head appears from between shelves. When he smiles his resemblance to Alexius is striking and Dorian forces himself to smile back.

"Welcome," Felix says and to Dorian's relief Felix doesn't try to kiss him.

Instead he gets a warm handshake and a cheeky grin. "My father has talked about nothing else but you for the past two days," he says. "If you're even half as amazing as he claims I think we just might be saved."

Alexius grabs Dorian by the arm, pulling him further in.

"Come, come, my dear boy, we must talk," he says. "I'm so glad you're here! Tea?"

Dorian has just about time to nod before he's sat down at a table that Alexius attempts to clean off books.

"You boys get acquainted, and I'll get some tea and cookies," he says and picks up a few more volumes before disappearing to the back room.

Felix looks at Dorian grinning.

"Well, I sure hope you're prepared to put up with him," he says.

"I was under the impression," Dorian says clearing his throat, "that this was an interview."

"Oh Maker no," Felix says waving his hand. "Is that why you're dressed up so fancy? Don't worry, the job was yours as soon as he got the email from Halward about you coming here."

Dorian's heart sinks a little but doesn't let his smile waver.

"I always dress like this," he says instead and Felix cocks his head.

"I guess that's what they wear in Tevinter?" he asks. "We don't go back much anymore, so I don't really keep up with it."

Felix himself is wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans and Dorian suddenly feels overdressed with his designer shirt and embroidered vest.

"Nevermind," Felix says, and maybe he can read Dorian better than Dorian would like. "Tell me about you. Have you found a place yet? If you haven't please tell my father you have, or he'll force you to move in with us."

Dorian can't help but to smile and it’s genuine this time, something about the younger man's demeanour is completely disarming.

"I have, actually. I signed a lease yesterday." Dorian says. "I get to move in next week, my stuff should have arrived by then."

"You should have said something sooner!" Alexius says, coming in with a tray. "We have room in our house, you would have been more than welcome to stay with us."

Felix lifts his eyebrows at Dorian and Dorian doesn't suppress a grin.

"Thank you, but I won't impose," he says. "The place I found is just fine."

Alexius puts the tray down and pours tea for everyone. It's an earthy Free Marches brew and Dorian sips it cautiously.

"About this job," he says. "I would like to hear what it entails."

Alexius nods, satisfied.

"I don't know how much your father has told you about our situation?" he says more serious now, and Dorian shakes his head a little. "Felix is going to be working less, so I need someone to help me around here."

Felix doesn't look at Dorian anymore, his face impassive now.

"And he keeps telling me that we should open... what is it again Felix?" Alexius asks and Felix gives him a slight smile.

"Online shop, dad," he says and turns to Dorian. "He can't even write emails if I don't help him. But it's the only way now, we have so many rare books we can't sell because no one knows they're here."

"I'm not sure why it's so important," Alexius waves. "But I'm sure you know all about it. So I need someone who understands our customers needs and can help with categorising new books. And who can stand in for me and take care of the shop when I can't be here."

Alexius looks at Dorian and his smile is gone now.

"Maybe it doesn't sound like fun to a young person like you, but it doesn't have to be permanent." There's something in Alexius' voice that makes Dorian uneasy. "But I would really appreciate you helping us out. I'll pay you a salary, and all the books you want to read."

"And work hours?" Dorian asks, pretending that it is a negotiation.

"10 to 5," Alexius says. "An hour for lunch. I promise, our customers are nice and quite infrequent."

"Alright," Dorian says. "I'll take it."

*** 

He ends up staying for longer than intended, looking at the shop and chatting. Alexius insists Dorian call him Gereon and soon they are engrossed talking about history of magic and Felix leaves them to it. But when he's leaving Felix slips him a piece of paper with his phone number with "Let's go for coffee sometime" scribbled on it, and after refusing Alexius' offer to drive him back to the inn several times, Dorian is soon back on the bus with a copy of _Arbatel de Magia Veterum_ under his arm.

`Dorian: I got the job. I like Alexius, he's not like I imagined him.`  
`Rilienus: How so?`  
`Dorian: Him being a friend of my father's, I imagined him more like that. But he was very nice. Met his son too.`  
`Dorian: May go out for coffee with him sometime.`  
`Rilienus: Sounds nice.`

And there is a pause while Dorian stares at the phone, wanting desperately to dial the number and hear Rilienus' voice and his tone when he says it. Or just, hear his voice.

There is no Skype that night: Dorian doesn't suggest it and neither does Rilienus ask.

Dorian falls asleep with _Arbatel de Magia_ on his lap.


	2. Moving day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian starts his job and moves in. Bull helps with the move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _But, life is for living,_   
>  _We all know,_   
>  _And I don't wanna live it alone._   
>  _—Coldplay, “Life is for Living”_

“My father can’t bring himself to say it aloud, but I have cancer,” Felix says.

Dorian and Felix are sitting in a quiet corner of a cafe in Hightown, a few blocks from _Bibliopola_. Dorian looks at the younger man and for the first time pays attention to the dark under his eyes and the slight hollow of his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Dorian mumbles quietly, not quite sure what else to say.

Felix looks at him and his smile has a touch of regret in it.

“Just whatever you do, don’t start treating me like my father,” he says. “I’m not dead yet.”

“Have you… I assume you are being treated?” Dorian asks and feels foolish immediately afterwards but Felix doesn’t seem to mind.

“We’ve tried magic of course. It didn’t work on my mother and it doesn’t work on me.” Felix says. “Something about the invasive nature of the cancer cells and regeneration rate, I don’t really follow magic theory that well.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian says again, helpless.

“Why?” Felix asks, but he doesn’t seem annoyed. “It’s not your fault. Nor could you have known, I don’t think my father has really told anyone about it.”

Dorian looks at Felix again but the man seems relaxed, looking out into the cafe, fingering one of his rings thoughtfully.

“I am starting chemo in few weeks, and my father very grudgingly agrees,” he says after a pause. “He doesn’t really believe in it, but he doesn’t have to. That’s why we need someone to mind the shop while I’m in treatment.”

“I understand,” Dorian says and drinks more of his latte despite it being too hot because his mouth feels unbearably dry. “If there’s anything I can do…”

Felix smiles at him. “I could really use a friend,” he says and Dorian breathes out.

“That,” he says, “I can do.”

***

Dorian soon sees what Felix means about his father.

Dorian starts working at _Bibliopola_ few days later and Alexius starts him with shelving new books, but when Felix tries to get up and help him Alexius frowns.

“Felix, the whole point of Dorian being here is that you get to rest,” he says firmly, but Felix responds to him in kind.

“Father, I’m hardly going to keel over pushing the cart after him!” he frowns back, starting to pull new books out of the box they came in.

Alexius’ frown deepens but Felix stands his ground.

“I won’t get on the ladder again. Only thing I’ll do is hand Dorian some books… If I feel dizzy I’ll sit down,” he says, but lines of worry on Alexius’ face don’t go away.

“It’ll be fine.” Felix says, softer. “I’ll be fine. And Dorian is there, so you can go and do your research.”

Alexius’ fingers twitch but he nods, slowly.

“If you need me, I’ll be right here,” he says, giving Dorian a look. “Don’t let him work too hard.”

Dorian doesn’t think putting books on shelves can possibly be hard work, but his arms are soon aching from lifting the heavy volumes above his head. Felix looks up at him with an amused smile when Dorian rests the volume three of _Steganographia_ on his shoulder instead of putting it on the self.

“Magical cryptology,” he says helpfully and Dorian growls.

“I _know_ , just give me a second,” he huffs and then hoists the book against shelf and finally pushing it in.

“Break?” Felix asks and Dorian nods.

“If you insist,” he says with a smile, climbing down the ladder.

They have strong tea and cookies from a tin can at the back of the shop. Dorian is slowly getting used to the taste of the Free Marches style tea and he sips it watching Felix stir third spoonful of sugar into his.

“You’re not a mage?” Dorian asks.

“Not really,” Felix chuckles a little. “Never had much of an ability nor really the interest. I guess my parents have never been traditionalists because they could have hardly cared less.”

“Lucky,” Dorian says, his nose crinkling. “Both of my parents have always taken a keen interest in everything I do. One of the reasons I’m here now.”

“Makes sense,” Felix says. “Stand on your own feet. I guess living in the Circle isn’t the same thing.”

“Hardly,” Dorian admits. “I just needed to do this, for my own sanity.”

Felix nods with a crooked smile.

“You’re brave,” he says. “I used to think I’d do it some day, but really I don’t mind _Bibliopola_. I might not know how to do magic but I dare say I know a thing or two about these books.” Felix waves at them. “And I thought I’d do something useful and get dad started with the website and get him to step out of the stone age. But we’ll see.”

“It’s a good idea,” Dorian nods. “Website would really get the word out there.”

He understands Alexius’ need to protect his son a little too well, he feels the urge too but he takes his promise to Felix seriously, resolute to treat him like any friend.

“I have a few ideas if you want to see sometime?” Felix says. “It’s nothing complicated really, first step would be to start entering all the books we already have into a database. Then adding a web shop to that wouldn’t be too complicated. And if the idea comes from you, dad might even listen.”

Dorian agrees.

***

`Dorian: Moving day!`  
`Rilienus: Good luck! Hope you hired lots of burly movers.`  
`Dorian: You’re disgusting.`  
`Rilienus: Just comfortable with my sexuality.`  
`Dorian: Don’t worry, I’ll send you photos.`  


Alexius forbids Felix to help Dorian with his move, but Felix is there anyway.

Dorian’s belongings arrive in a small van driven by a single burly dwarf (Dorian takes a photo when he’s turned away and sends it to Rilienus. `Rilienus: Asshole`).

“Where’d you want it?” the dwarf asks, opening the van doors. “I can help you carry some stuff but that bed ain’t gonna move on dwarf power alone.”

“Oh,” Dorian says because he really hasn’t thought this through. “Well, let’s try to get the smaller stuff in first.”

Felix isn’t much more help than opening the doors, while Dorian and the dwarf are panting with exertion after carrying the first of the boxes inside. Dorian still hasn’t figured out what to do with the heavier furniture as the elevator doors open to the lobby, but all his other thoughts disappear as he sees the Qunari for the first time.

He’s standing at the doorway of his apartment, leaning forward kissing a young human man. His huge shoulders almost fill the doorway and when he lifts his head his wide horns are not far from scraping the frame. He wears and eye patch and a shirt half buttoned showing off a muscular chest. Dorian _stares_ , and Felix has to give him a gentle nudge to get him moving again.

The young man turns around too, unaffected by being caught — and _of course_ he is, this is not Tevinter — then looks back at the Qunari.

“See you later, Bull,” the man says and gives some kind of half hearted salute that the Qunari returns, before the man navigates his way out around Dorian’s boxes.

The Qunari watches Dorian and the dwarf pick up more boxes and shifts his weight.

“You guys need a hand?” he asks, and his voice is deep but friendly.

“That would be great,” Dorian says while trying to blow his hair out of his face. “I’m moving into 22.”

“22?” the Qunari says, grabbing the nearest box like it weighs nothing. “Next to Cullen. Did you let him know?”

“Oh,” Dorian says “I’m sorry, we didn’t. I didn’t realise we should have.”

The Qunari grunts a little as they all stuff themselves into the elevator, he has to bow his head to fit in. “It’s good to let him know if you’re going to make noise… I’m Bull, by the way.”

“Dorian,” Dorian says. “My friend Felix.”

Felix nods at Bull. “Just here to be in the way,” he says.

Bull chuckles and the elevator doors open again. He leans the box he’s holding against his hip and raps the door of 21 with his fingertips.

“Cullen? It’s Bull.” He says and Dorian is having a deja vu. “New guy moving into 22 today. His name is Dorian.”

He listens for few seconds but Dorian isn’t surprised when there’s no answer.

“Does he ever come out?” Dorian asks once they’re past the door. “Evelyn did the same thing when I came to see the apartment.”

“All the time,” Bull shrugs. “But we all have our bad days.”

Again Dorian swallows further questions.

***

With Bull’s help the rest of Dorian’s belongings are moved in quick. The dwarf gives him the receipt and drives off. Bull stands in the lobby popping his joints.

“I think you owe me a beer,” he says and laughs at Dorian’s expression. “No need to look like that, ‘Vint. I’m not collecting today.”

“I really appreciate your help,” Dorian says and he has to crane his neck a little to look up at Bull. “I just hadn’t thought about all the details.”

“Always read the small print,” Bull says amicably. “You should bring a six-pack over sometime and I’ll show you the roof. And you’ll have to meet Cullen sooner or later.”

“Can’t wait,” Dorian lies and Bull looks at him a second longer than is comfortable.

“Well, whenever you’re ready, neighbour.” Bull says turning to his apartment, looking for his keys from his pocket. “Don’t be a stranger. Was nice to meet you, Felix.”

“You too, Bull,” Felix says, he looks tired but Dorian doesn’t say anything.

They take the elevator back to the second floor, but this time when elevator doors open the door of 21 is pulled close with a sharp slam. Dorian lifts his eyebrows to Felix.

“I don’t know which is a more terrifying thought,” he whispers leaning closer. “That I get to meet this mysterious Cullen, or that I live here for years and never do.”

At Dorian’s apartment the boxes await them unopened, and Dorian groans, he can feel the exhaustion in his bones.

“Please, find the sofa and sit down while I try to look for a box with something to eat. Pretty sure I have at least tea somewhere here…” he says, starting to open boxes.

Felix wades through the boxes and lays down on the sofa, digging out his phone from his pocket.

“Almost seven,” he says, yawning. “And only three missed calls from dad.”

“Call him back,” Dorian says, finally finding the box with the kettle, boxes of tea and cups. “I don’t want to get fired within a week of starting my first job.”

Felix grimaces and gives him the finger but dials his father. Conversation consists mostly of “Yes I’m fine”, “No I didn’t” and “Yes yes, soon” and it’s not hard for Dorian to fill in the rest of the details in his head.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly after Felix has finished, settingthe tea tray down on a nearby box.

“Forget it,” Felix says rubbing his face with his palms. “Is that Neromenian tea I smell?”

Dorian smiles. “Very good! You haven’t completely forgotten your roots!” he says pouring some tea into small delicate glasses sitting in silver holders. “Looks like my mother slipped few tins of this in the crate.”

Felix sits up taking the glass, smiling. “I haven’t had any in years…”

They drink in silence and if the tea invokes as intense memories in Felix as it does in Dorian he doesn’t let it show.

***

`Dorian: Finally moved in.`  
`Dorian: Met a real life Qunari, he helped me with the move.`  
`Rilienus: Pics or didn’t happen.`  
`Dorian: Maybe another day when my arms don’t feel like led from carrying the boxes. Anyway, he invited me for beers (paid by me).`  
`Rilienus: Smooth. Then you can tell me if it’s true what they say about Qunari men and their feet.`  
`Dorian: I am not sending you dick pics.`  
`Rilienus: Now who’s disgusting. Honestly.`  


Dorian sleeps dreamless sleep on his mattress surrounded by unopened boxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank [Dragonflies_and_Katydids](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonflies_and_Katydids/profile) for unwittingly giving me the idea for Felix’s cancer.


	3. Let's climb to the roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian eats dinner on the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There's a drumming noise inside my head_   
>  _That throws me to the ground_   
>  _I swear that you should hear it_   
>  _It makes such an all mighty sound_   
>  _—Florence + The Machine, “Drumming Song”_
> 
>  
> 
>  So. I heard you'd like to see Cullen.

`Dorian: Still no internet. Can’t order online and their number is always busy.`  
`Rilienus: Sucks. Can’t you steal from one of your neighbours?`  
`Dorian: Would you believe it, they all have them password protected.`  
`Dorian: Still working on it, I’ll keep you posted.`  


***

Dorian counts exactly four days before he goes to see Bull again. Somewhere on the back of his head his mother is lecturing to him about manners and appropriate times to wait not to appear neither pushy nor rude. Dorian relaxes his grip on the six pack he’s holding as he knocks on Bull’s door. A firm, casual knock, he decides, and makes his lips curl into an easy smile.

Bull opens the door, he’s wearing shorts and a towel thrown over his shoulder.

"Dorian!" Bull says, looking pleased. "Come in,” he waves, stepping aside. "I just came from work."

Dorian comes in, looking around trying not to look too curious, and especially trying not to look at Bull's bare chest.

"Are you sure, I can come back later—“ Dorian says but he’s already in and Bull shrugs.

"It's a perfect timing, I was just getting dinner started. But this way we can get Cullen and go to the roof," he says walking into the kitchen.

Bull's apartment is larger than Dorian's, in every sense. Rooms have high ceilings and wide door frames, there's a whole open kitchen and a living room, and door to what Dorian imagines is the bedroom. Furniture is sturdy and functional — the living room seems most lived in, with a large sofa and a plush carpet with large pillows on the floor in front of a small TV.

"I don't want to intrude," Dorian says, because it's the _proper_ thing to say.

"Nonsense, I invited you didn't I," Bull says from the kitchen. "Are you a vegetarian?"

"Not at all," Dorian says taking a few steps towards the kitchen. "What's on the roof?"

"Oh, it's just a gathering place for people in this building," Bull says, pulling food out of the large fridge. “Barbecue, deck chairs. Decent view. I've got sausages... rice. Eggs... do you eat eggs?"

"I eat eggs," Dorian says and Bull hands him a carton.

"Krem doesn't eat eggs," Bull says. "Never could figure out if it was some 'Vint thing. Right, I think this is enough."

He turns around and Dorian steps back because Bull is just so _big_ that he fills the space around him, but Bull gives him a disarming smile.

"I'll just quickly put a shirt on," he says. "Won't be a second. There's a basket under the counter, can you chuck all the food in there?"

Dorian finds a weaved brown basket and puts the packet of sausages there with the eggs and a container of boiled rice which Bull had set on the counter. When he comes back to the living room with the basket, Bull is just buttoning his shirt and Dorian's gaze lingers on the scars on the broad chest before they're covered, then he pulls his eyes up quickly. His discretion hasn't escaped Bull who watches him without a word. Bull tucks his shirt into his shorts, and offers Dorian his hand which Dorian stares.

"The basket?" Bull says and there's a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. Dorian's cheeks burn as he hands the basket over.

"Let's see if Cullen is up for joining us," Bull says.

By the time Bull is knocking Cullen's door, Dorian has no idea what to expect.

"Cullen? Up for some dinner on the roof with me and Dorian?" Bull says to the door.

To Dorian's surprise this time there's movement on the other side of the door and and it opens slightly.

"Do you have those sausages?" a voice asks.

The voice is a little rough, like a voice gets when you haven't spoken aloud all day. Inside it's still dark, and Dorian cranes his neck to see but can’t make anything out.

"Ones with apple? Yeah," Bull says. "I'll make some egg fried rice. Dorian brought beer."

There's a second's pause, and then the door opens more, as if an invitation.

"Do you need help with the chair or are you good to walk?" Bull asks.

There's no immediate answer, but Bull is looking at something inside and he nods then, handing the basket back to Dorian.

"Right, just a sec," he says and looks at Dorian. "Wait here."

By this time Dorian has formed an image of his ex-templar neighbour in his mind. A half senile old man with a bent spine, probably with a white beard and missing teeth, nails like claws. What he doesn't expect is a blonde rather handsome man in his thirties with intelligent brown eyes, even if he's not looking straight at Dorian. He's got a stubble but he's hardly unkempt, sitting straight backed in a wheelchair pushed by Bull, hands slightly gripping the armrests.

"Dorian, this is Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath, Ferelden." Bull says. "Former knight-commander of Kirkwall."

"Shut up, Bull." Cullen says, his mouth quirks a little but he looks up at Dorian.

"Dorian Pavus," Dorian says, and for once he's glad about the manners ingrained into him by his parents because otherwise he'd be staring with his mouth open. "Most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?"

He extends a hand for Cullen to shake and Cullen hesitates a second before taking it. His grip is strong and the shake is brief before he pulls his hand away.

"Enough already," Cullen snaps and Bull waves for Dorian to get back to the elevator.

It's is even more cramped with Bull and the wheelchair, and Dorian regrets wearing double layers. Entrance to the roof is on the fourth floor, and after the landing Bull has to lift the wheelchair for the last few steps while Dorian keeps the door open. Cullen grits his teeth through the indignation of it but Bull has clearly done this before and keeps the chair steady.

Once on the roof Dorian gives a slow whistle. He thinks "decent view" is somewhat of an understatement as he grins, looking over the roofs and past the chains out to the sea.

"On a clear day you can see way past the Gallows," Bull says, taking the basket from Dorian's hands.

"Can you go and see the Twins up close?" Dorian asks looking at the giant statues holding the chains. "I've always heard the stories but—“ He shakes his head. "They are... magnificent."

"They're bullshit," Cullen says. "Someone promised me a beer."

"Dorian can help you with that," Bull chuckles. "Let me get the food going."

Dorian doesn't dare to touch the wheelchair but Cullen seems quite adept at handling himself once they're on the deck, rolling himself next to the deck chairs. His mouth quirks again as he watches Dorian look for a bottle opener.

"Just give it here," Cullen says, reaching for the bottle.

He pops the top off the it against his chair, and takes a big gulp.

"Imported shit," he remarks and relaxes into his chair.

Bull laughs. "Ferelden beer would technically be imported here too," he says, spreading the coal onto the barbecue. "Shit, I think we're out of matches..."

"Let me," Dorian says and lifts his fingers to snap up a flame.

Few things happen very fast.

Before Dorian has time to react, Bull has stood up and closed the distance between them, gripping Dorian's wrist with one hand while his other hand snuffs out the flame. At the same time Cullen has stood up and he's screaming, hand trying to find a sword on his hip that he doesn't carry anymore. Then his leg gives out and Bull moves again, this time letting go of Dorian (who spins at the force of it, still too shocked to do anything) and catches Cullen before he falls.

"I got you," Bull breathes, he's wrapped his arms around Cullen, one knee on the deck, other one supporting struggling Cullen. "I got you." he says again, more quietly and then: "It was just Dorian. He didn't know."

Cullen presses a quivering hand on his own mouth to stop himself from screaming but it takes a few more moments before he gets himself under control. Shaking takes longer to subside but Bull holds him firmly and doesn't help him back into his chair until Cullen is breathing steady again.

"Fuck." Cullen groans once sitting on his own again, leaning his head on his hands. "Fucking mages."

"It was my fault," Bull says, still one knee down. "I didn't think he would do that. It’s my fault for not warning him."

"I'm sorry," Dorian says from behind them, Bull's touch still heating up his skin. "Templars in Tevinter..." he says but doesn't finish the sentence. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Bull says not turning yet. "He was just caught by surprise."

He stays knelt in front of Cullen for another minute in silence before Cullen speaks again.

"You can't get up, can you, you stupid ox," he says looking at Bull, now with a slight smirk.

"Shut up," Bull says and groans. "Just give me a moment."

"Your bad knee, too," Cullen says. "Why don't you ask your mage friend here to put some ice on it. You'll be no use to me if you're in a wheelchair too."

"Shut up," Bull says again. "I can do this."

But he rolls to sit on the deck, stretching his leg in front of him for few moments, bending it as if to test the joint. The knee has already started to bruise but then Bull hoists himself up anyway, growling, glancing up at Dorian.

"Wouldn't mind some ice," he says with a grimace. "We'll never get any dinner this rate."

"Are you sure?" Dorian asks, helping Bull to sit next to the barbecue. He doesn't look at Cullen.

"Just give me a beer and ice it." Bull says. "Please."

Dorian picks up another bottle of beer and finally dares to look at Cullen who is watching them.

"Go ahead, do your thing." Cullen frowns, waving his hand dismissively. "Just don't... startle me again."

Dorian hesitates but exhales and summons the frost from his fingers to ice the bottle he's holding, listening for the cracking sounds of ice forming before letting go and handing it to Bull. Cullen doesn't hide his stare, his fingers curling and then starting to drum a pattern onto the wheelchair armrest.

"Ahh... that does it." Bull sights satisfied, pressing the cold bottle to his knee. "And the barbecue, if you will."

Dorian wipes the frost off his fingers on his trousers and quickly glances at Cullen again before lighting the flame on his fingers, this time lighting the coals on the barbecue. Drumming of Cullen's fingers intensifies but he doesn't say anything.

Dorian finally finds the bottle opener and opens a beer for himself too. Bull waits for the coals to go white hot before he puts the sausages on the grill, as well as an oiled pan. By this time he’s standing up again despite Cullen’s protests, and has opened the beer he previously used for icing his knee.

“I can’t cook sitting down,” Bull says, starting to break the eggs into a bowl. “Do you want your sausages or not?”

Dorian sits back at a respectable distance from Cullen and enjoys their banter. It is clear that the men enjoy a camaraderie Dorian isn’t part of, yet the way Bull pulls him into the conversation never makes him feel like an outsider. Bull cooks egg fried rice on the pan and divides it between three bowls, which he tops with steaming hot sausages and Cullen takes his, hungrily. The sausage is too hot to hold with his fingers but he does it anyway, hissing annoyed at the splattering grease and Bull laughs at him.

“Slow down, knight-commander,” he grins. “It’ll still be there in two minutes time when it’s cool enough to eat.”

“You don’t know the shit they’ve been feeding me lately,” Cullen frowns. “I’ve asked them to send something else but it’s always the same crap. I was fed better as a young recruit at the barracks.”

“You still need to eat,” Bull says calmly. “Why don’t you let Evelyn call them again. I’m sure she can work something out.”

“I won’t be a burden,” Cullen says curtly and bites into his sausage again. “She’s dealing with enough as it is.”

“It’s not a burden if she volunteers,” Bull says and Dorian has a feeling that even if Bull keeps his tone neutral it’s not how he’s feeling.

“Maybe,” Cullen says after a pause, he’s spooning the rice into his mouth in an equally frantic speed now.

They don’t return to the subject again, and Bull steers the conversation soon to lighter topics and it stays that way for the rest of the evening. They don’t leave the roof until the sun has gone down and taken the heat with it, and when Dorian starts shivering Bull calls it a night.

“Want to come downstairs for a bit?” Bull asks Cullen when they’re standing at the elevators, leaning over the wheelchair such there’s no mistaking that this is an invitation for the templar only.

Cullen’s shoulders are slumped a little and he looks tired, but his fingers are still drumming.

“Yeah,” he says after a long pause.

Dorian leaves them to it.

***

`Dorian: So tonight was interesting. Had BBQ with a Qunari and a ex-templar.`  
`Rilienus: Why does this sound like one of those jokes? A Qunari, a Templar and a Mage walk into a bar...`  
`Rilienus: So what happened?`  
`Dorian: Freaked the templar out with a simple spell. I had completely forgotten they use lyrium here, feel like such an ass now.`  
`Rilienus: Aww can’t be that bad.`  
`Rilienus: As long as he’s not still on it. Remember, they can sap into your magic.`  
`Dorian: I don’t think he could hurt a fly tbh`  
`Rilienus: Well, just keep your eyes open and your dick in your pants.`

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next in the reading order, side chapter [No need to pray, no need to speak](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5433260) with Bull and Cullen.


	4. Issala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian uses Bull's wifi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who read the prologue have probably wondered when any of that is coming to play. Well, wonder no more.
> 
> Also if you missed it, there is now a between chapters [story about Bull and Cullen](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5433260) taking place right after the previous chapter. I will be writing a few of these ‘bonus’ stories - they help me think when I establish characters and relationships but don’t necessarily fit anywhere in the flow of the main story. Please subscribe to the Ghost Stories series if you want to keep up with them.

Dorian isn’t opposed to one-night stands, but he _is_ out of practice.

When the handsome young mage buying a copy of _De visitatione monachorum_ flirts with him, he doesn’t even recognise it as such at first. Not until he finds the mage leaning into his personal space just that little bit more than would usually be _acceptable_ and Dorian straightens his back so suddenly the stranger’s jaw hits his shoulder and closes with a snap.

“Pardon me!” Dorian says flustered, glancing at Felix who’s sitting at the computer, working on setting up the database.

Felix grins and shrugs, and Dorian reminds himself again that this is _not Tevinter,_ and the mage looks at him sheepishly.

“Apologies if I was too forward,” he says.

But the man smells good and it is then that Dorian wonders what it would be like to kiss a man with a beard.

He finds that out later that night.

***

Dorian has found that if he’s in the far corner of the lobby he can get two bars of wifi on his laptop, which is where he's sitting with his computer balanced on his crossed knees when Bull comes in. Bull is carrying a bag of groceries in one hand and holding a sleeping Qunari toddler against his chest with his other, and his face lights up when he sees Dorian.

"Dorian!" he says and then peers down at him. "What are you doing?"

"I've been having problems getting internet set up in my apartment,” Dorian says, embarrassed, closing his laptop with a snap. "I can connect to the only unprotected wifi in this building if I sit right here."

"Why didn't you say something," Bull says and the child on his arms stirs but doesn't quite wake up. "Come on, you can use mine."

Dorian gets up, stretching his knees.

"If you don't mind," he says, looking at the child.

"Hold this," Bull says, handing him the groceries so he can dig his keys from his pocket. "He fell asleep when we were walking back from the shop."

"I see," Dorian says. He has never really interacted with children and has a mild dislike of them. "Is he... your son?"

Bull glances at Dorian, pushing the door open.

"In a way," he says but doesn't elaborate.

They go in and Dorian sets the groceries on the counter in the kitchen while Bull puts the child down on the sofa.

"Imekari," he says softly, wiping some blond curls off the child's sweaty forehead. "Imekari. We're home."

The child opens his eyes and his mouth quivers a little. "Bull," he says and reaches for Bull with his chubby arms.

"I'm here, imekari," Bull says. "Are you hungry?"

Little head nods.

"Come on then, I'll make you a sandwich." Bull says and tries to get up but the child — _imekari_ , Dorian thinks, means just that, _child_ — clings to him. "Fine, I'll carry you." Bull chuckles and picks up the boy again.

Dorian sits at the table with his laptop as Bull sits the child opposite him, propped up by a few pillows so his little arms reach.

"Dorian, this is Issala," he says. "Imekari, say hello to Dorian."

Issala doesn't say anything, just stares at Dorian with his dark eyes.

"Hello," Dorian says and for once his etiquette fails. In Tevinter children are kept out of the way of the adults and if present they're most certainly not expected to interact with grown-ups.

They proceed to ignore each other while Bull makes sandwiches in the kitchen — Dorian on his laptop and Issala yawning and looking dazed, nursing a mug of water Bull has given him. Eventually Bull comes back balancing three plates on his large hands, and pushes a plate with a hefty sandwich towards Dorian, and another smaller one to Issala. Dorian looks up surprised, but takes the plate because the sandwich looks delicious: thick pieces of bread with crispy crust, filled with overripe ham and slices of cheese.

"Thank you," Dorian says and smiles, only realising now how hungry he is.

Issala looks at his sandwich which is a smaller copy of Dorian's.

"Thank you," he says too, copying Dorian in both tone and posture but doesn't smile.

Bull ruffles the boy's head and sits down.

"I wanted to talk to you about Cullen," Bull says to Dorian, taking a bite out of his own sandwich.

"Alright," Dorian says. "And I'm sorry about what happened the other day," he adds quickly. "Templars in Tevinter don't use lyrium and I just didn't think... I didn’t think a small spell like that would scare him.”

"You couldn't have known," Bull says. “It’s rare to see retired templars, even here. Usually when templars retire it's because lyrium has rotted their brain cells, and then they’re usually put up in retirement homes instead of living amongst the regular folks. Only they’re so used up at that point that the only thing that the Chantry can offer them then is to make their final months comfortable, wipe drool and change their diapers, that sort of thing." Bull says it all in a perfectly calm voice but his lip curls a little with distaste. "Lyrium causes blindness, paranoia, memory loss, dementia and eventually death, and the Chantry really doesn't want you to think about it so they tend to hide it away."

Dorian glances at Issala, wondering if this is a topic a toddler should be listening in on but the boy is chewing on his sandwich, watching Bull.

"Cullen was injured in an incident a few years back and retired because of that, not because of lyrium side effects,” Bull continues. “He was and is of course, addicted. I don't know if anyone knows if you can ever get over it, like I said templars don't usually live long enough. But he might have a chance, having quit early.”

"That is... barbaric," Dorian says, pit of his stomach feels like ice.

"Completely," Bull agrees. "Oh the Chantry claims they're taking care of him — he has a pension and he gets meals delivered to his door daily and doctor visits and there's even once a week group therapy group he could go to. It's of course filled with other addicts and attracts lyrium dust dealers so he's really better off not going."

"So instead you take care of him?" Dorian says, barely a question.

"Few of us in the building do," Bull shrugs. "Completely voluntary, of course. Me and Evelyn, mostly, sometimes others. If you ask neighbours here they won't say no, but people have their own lives and own problems. Can't expect them to dedicate their time to this. Nor would Cullen want it.”

Bull doesn't look at Dorian, and Dorian is relieved because for a moment there he had been afraid of Bull asking him just that, to help looking after the crippled lyrium addict.

"But there are few things you should know," Bull adds. "Living next to him."

"Right," Dorian says bracing himself.

"Do you have any lyrium in your apartment?" Bull asks and this time he's looking at Dorian directly, probing him with a keen eye.

"Ah," Dorian says. "I do, of course."

"What you do in the privacy of your own home is naturally your own business," Bull says and keeps his unwavering gaze on Dorian. "But don't give him any lyrium, and don't leave your door unlocked. If you're planning on doing any blood magic rituals or whatever it is that you 'Vints love doing, consider doing them somewhere else."

"Of course," Dorian says and he can feel his face heating up. "I'm not planning any."

"And—“ Bull says slower this time, face a little bit softer. “—if he has a bad night and you hear screaming... Come get me."

"I will," Dorian says. "Does that happen... often?"

"Not too often, not lately. He has nightmares and can’t sometimes tell dream from reality.” Bull says. "But just in case. I'm not asking you to take care of him, just to be a courteous neighbour."

"About that," Dorian says and hates himself for blushing again, he really should be old enough. "I know he doesn't like unexpected noises... but if I potentially wanted to have, uh, a friend over—“

Bull's lip twitches amused. "Oh go ahead. But maybe try not to fuck him against Cullen’s wall."

Dorian's blush deepens and he wonders what else Bull has learned about him just by observing, and he glances at Issala again who has finished his sandwich and just sits there, watching them.

"Of course," Dorian says. "I know how to be discreet."

Bull laughs and gets up starting to gathering the plates.

"I'm sure you do, big guy," he says and lingers for an extra second picking up Dorian’s plate. Bull’s laughter has dissolved into a thoughtful grin as he watches Dorian. “Pretty ‘Vint like you must have a lot of friends.”

Just as casually he steps away before Dorian has a chance to answer, and ruffles Issala's hair again. "You want more water, imekari?"

Issala nods and Bull picks up his mug.

"Then can we go see Cullen?" Issala asks.

"Sure we can,” Bull says. "But you have to remember that if he's not feeling well you have to respect that.”

“I know,” Issala says and Bull smiles.

“Good boy,” he says, and again Dorian wonders about their relationship.

Few minutes later Dorian has packed his laptop away and they're waiting for the elevator in the lobby. Issala has pressed the elevator button and then Bull leans a little bit closer to Dorian.

"I know you 'Vints have this picture in your head about the Qunari. Like you see us as this forbidden, terrible thing." Bull says in a low voice, but he's grinning.

"Excuse me?" Dorian says, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

"If you ever feel like you want to explore that—“ Bull says and now he’s so close his breath feels hot against Dorian's neck. “—my door is always open."

The elevator doors open and Issala, who seems to have perked up after his snack, runs in. Dorian takes a second to find his legs and then he follows them in.

"Lift me!" Issala tells Bull reaching his hands up for him. "I want to press the button again.”

"You got it," Bull says and lifts the boy so he can reach the buttons and the child presses number two with great satisfaction.

"Can I knock too?" Issala asks. "I'll be very careful."

"You sure can," Bull nods, he's not looking at Dorian again, but Dorian can still feel his skin prickling where Bull’s breath was on him.

On the second floor Issala runs to Cullen's door, and after getting an approving nod from Bull he knocks on the door with his little fist.

"Cullen?" He says pressing his face to the crack of the door. "It's me, Issala."

This time the door opens almost immediately, and Cullen appears — and Dorian rather thinks that the smile makes Cullen look ten years younger. He's dressed in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt and he leans on a cane, but he's smiling down to Issala.

“Kiddo!” he says happily. "I was starting to wonder when I'd see you again."

"Ash said I can stay with Bull for two nights," Issala says lifting up two fingers. "Will you come and play with me?"

"Of course," Cullen smiles and looks up, seeing Dorian.

His smile wavers a little but he gives Dorian a curt nod which Dorian returns.

"I'll see you later," Dorian says walking to his door, and looks at Bull — well somewhere around Bull’s chest as he's not quite sure if he could look him in the eye without another embarrassing reaction.

"Later, Dorian," Bull says and his tone doesn't carry any indication of their previous conversation.

It is, however, the only thing Dorian can think of that night.

***

`Dorian: Still no internet. Got to use Bull's today though.`  
`Rilienus: Bull? Is that what you call him?`  
`Dorian: It is actually his name.`  
`Dorian: Please. Don’t go there.`  
`Rilienus: You don't even know what I was going to type!!`  
`Dorian: I know YOU.`  
`Rilienus: It's just that`  
`Dorian: No`  
`Rilienus: Would he be though`  
`Dorian: No`  
`Dorian: No`  
`Rilienus: Hung like a bull`  
`Dorian: I can't believe you went there.`  



	5. Ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian meets Ash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _It's a different kind of danger_   
>  _And the bells are ringing out_   
>  _And I'm calling for my mother_   
>  _As I pull the pillars down_   
>  _—Florence + The Machine, “Delilah”_   
> 

Felix starts chemo the next day and Dorian is left minding _Bibliopola_ by himself.

He starts out by entering new books into Felix's database and then shelving them, and while he's at it he organises the protection spells section alphabetically. He runs his fingers on the spines of the books in the history section, and picks up and opens his favourite volume of _History of Witchcraft and Magic in Thedas_ but discards it after few minutes of staring at a page without having read a word.

Then there is something Dorian wants check and he makes it way to languages and picks up the heavy Qunlat dictionary and opens it at I. He goes down the list of words until he finds it, _issala_ — _dust_ and frowns a little. Who would name their child _dust_ , he wonders, and he thinks of Bull calling Issala _imekari_ and Cullen's pleased _kiddo_ — subtle, but maybe not a coincidence that neither used the child’s name.

Dorian tries not to think about Felix laying on some hospital bed with poison slowly dripping into his veins, and he tries not to look at the clock. But when he’s not thinking about Felix, Dorian’s thoughts inevitably go to Bull and his suggestion from the previous day. Dorian has been propositioned before — he’s handsome and he knows it — and for few seconds Dorian thinks about the bearded mage from previous week and how eager he had been to please. But as pleasant as that had been he doesn’t feel the same heat thinking of what they did as he does thinking of what he _might_ do with Bull. He’s been with human men, and even dated an elf once to annoy his parents, but there’s something about the sheer bulk and the size of the Qunari that turns him on in instinctual level that makes him shiver.

Maybe it’s good that a customer comes in just then, because the way Dorian’s thoughts are going he’s not far from sticking a ‘closed’ sign on the door and going to find Bull. In the end he helps two more customers during the afternoon, and clears out and shelves two piles of books by the till and dusts off the display window. He’s just closing the shop when Alexius and Felix arrive back from the hospital. Felix looks tired and Alexius has an arm around him, helping him out of the taxi, and Dorian keeps the door open for them.

“How did it go?” he asks, eyes going from Alexius to Felix.

“It was fine,” Felix says while his father grunts. “Hush, father, I only vomited once. And they’ve given me pills for the nausea now.”

“You should get to bed now, and rest,” Alexius says frowning deep. “And I have some research to do, if I can just find this text I once read about—” he stops in mid-sentence. “Dorian, would you mind helping?”

“Of course,” Dorian says, and as Alexius releases Felix he offers his arm to his friend but Felix frowns at him.

“I’m not dead yet,” he says and Dorian can’t help but to smile.

“Fine, but let me tuck you in though?” he might be joking, but Alexius isn’t.

“Get him to bed!” he snaps before disappearing between the shelves, furiously looking for something with brows knitted in deep concentration.

As soon as Alexius is out of sight, Felix leans on Dorian’s arm.

“If you don’t mind,” he says. “I’m just tired, and the stairs are quite steep.”

Felix and Alexius live in a large apartment above _Bibliopola_ and Dorian helps Felix up the narrow steps and into his bedroom. Felix lays down on the made bed, refusing to go between the sheets but he does accept a blanket. Dorian watches him as he closes his eyes and maybe the dark under his eyes seems just a bit darker today.

“Do you want a glass of water here, or something?” Dorian asks quietly. “Should I bring a bucket? In case you feel sick again?”

“It’s fine,” Felix murmurs. “Just water would be good.”

When Dorian comes back with the water, Felix is asleep.

***

There are things Dorian doesn't have a ready etiquette for.

For example, how long is one supposed to wait until following up on an indecent proposal is something Dorian's mother never talked about. In the end Dorian waits for two nights, and if what Issala told Cullen was right, the boy should have gone home by now, wherever that was.

Dorian spends some extra time in the bathroom for his casual booty call look: extra wax on his moustache, touch of kohl and shimmering powder on his cheekbones that makes his skin practically glow in low light. Few open buttons on his shirt, showing just the right amount of neck with a glimmer of a gold chain, more gold on his fingers. Loose jeans with buttons, bare feet with slip on sandals. Dorian squints at his mirror image approvingly and heads downstairs.

He knocks on the door and relaxes his face into an inviting smile, but as a backup plan Dorian has his laptop under his arm — at least he can pretend to come for the wifi if nothing else. But when Bull opens the door he doesn't look welcoming, in fact his face is so blank that the contrast to his usual lively expression it comes off as downright hostile. Dorian has to stop himself from not taking a step back.

"Is this a bad time?" Dorian asks, lifting his laptop cautiously.

"Oh, Dorian," Bull says and his face relaxes into something more familiar. "I was expecting someone else." Then he smirks a little and Dorian can feel the heat in the pit of his stomach. "Come in?"

Dorian nods a little, still holding onto his laptop. "Unless you're expecting company..." he says.

But Bull opens the door for Dorian to enter, though not enough for him to pass without brushing against the big man. Dorian’s heart starts beating faster but when he comes in he finds Bull is not alone. Cullen is sitting at the kitchen table with Issala playing chess, apparently in a middle of a game.

“No kiddo, you know that’s not how the queen moves,” Cullen says and Issala giggles. He’s standing on the chair leaning over the table, little fingers reaching for a piece. “No no, _templar_ is the one that jumps.” Cullen shakes his head.

“This one?” Issala points at another piece, and Cullen nods.

Issala picks up the piece and counts “One, two, turn, one,” glancing up at Cullen to make sure he’s doing it right and Cullen nods again.

“Okay good, now my turn,” Cullens says looking at the board feigning deep concentration.

“Waiting for his mother to pick him up,” Bull says to Dorian. "Hang out, if you want."

"Sure," Dorian says, and makes his way to the sofa with his laptop.

Bull hovers a little, letting his gaze linger on Dorian before he moves to the table to watch Cullen and Issala play. Dorian listens to them while reading his email and checking the news — the game seems to be only half serious, and in the end Cullen loses with some fanfare, and Issala’s sniggers delighted.

The celebrations are interrupted by a knock on the door, and all the laughter dies.

Bull gets up again, and Dorian can see his face going to that strange blank expression he had when opening the door to him, and he pats Issala on the head.

"I think that's your mother now," he says quietly and goes to the door.

Dorian doesn't see who's at the door from the sofa, but there's a pause.

“The Iron Bull,” a woman’s voice says.

“Ash,” Bull replies, and steps aside to let the woman in, but unlike with Dorian this time he gives the person entering the room a wide berth.

The Qunari woman who steps in has an undeniable presence. Tall spiral horns with golden horn caps make her almost as tall as Bull, skin darker than his, contrasted by white hair tied with complicated braids. She’s wearing large jewellery with colourful stones around her neck and on her arms, and a white flowy dress. Yet it’s her face that makes the biggest impact on Dorian: intelligent dark eyes with lids painted blue and high cheekbones, mouth with thin lips painted equally blue. Ash looks around and Dorian gets a distinct feeling he's being assessed and measured for the second woman's eyes stop at him. _Who would name their child Dust_ , Dorian thinks again and then answers himself. _Someone called Ash, apparently._

“Cullen,” Ash says, her eyes have stopped at Cullen and her voice becomes softer. “How are you?”

Cullen stares down at his knees and then his hands jerk and he presses them hard onto his ears, closing his eyes.

“Ash, please,” Bull says in a low voice.

"Issala," Ash says ignoring Bull and beckons the child, who is now wearing a similar blank stare to Bull’s. "Come on, we must go."

Issala climbs down from his chair, while Bull picks up a little backpack by the door, smiles at the boy.

"Here, imekari," Bull says, holding it for him. "See you soon, okay?" To Ash he says: ”Okay if I pick up Issala again next week?"

The woman still watches Cullen for a few more seconds, seeming to consider the request. “Fine,” she says after a pause. “Same time.”

“See,” Bull says to Issala and picks him up, giving the boy a hug. “I’ll pick you up again next week.”

Issala wraps his arms around Bull’s neck and holds on tight until Ash clicks her tongue, and even though it’s hard to say if it’s out of annoyance or a command, it has an immediate effect on the child who lets go and slides down to the floor. Bull helps Issala put on the backpack while Ash waits.

“Bye Cullen,” Issala says but Cullen doesn’t respond, he’s shut out the room now, rocking lightly back and forth on his chair, hands over his ears and eyes closed. Issala turns to look at Bull. “Bye Bull.”

“Bye, imekari,” Bull says. “Be good, okay?”

Issala’s eyes stop at Dorian for a second but he doesn’t say anything to him. Ash doesn’t acknowledge any of them, she guides Issala out of the door and Bull closes it.

“She’s, uh—“ Dorian says after the silence has stretched long enough to make him really uncomfortable. “—interesting.”

Bull grunts a little and goes to see Cullen who’s still sitting curled up in his wheelchair. Bull rubs his hands together almost as to warm them up before he lays them gently on Cullen’s shoulders.

“Cullen. She’s gone,” he says and slowly Cullen stops rocking and lowers his hands. “She’s gone,” Bull says again.

“I came downstairs to play chess with the kiddo,” Cullen says quietly.

“That happened,” Bull says.

“We played,” Cullen says and swallows. “I let him win.”

“That happened,” Bull says again. “He was very happy.”

“She came,” Cullen says and draws breath. “She said to me ‘Cullen’—” he hesitates “—‘how are you.’”

“That happened,” Bull says, his voice steady.

“And she left,” Cullen says finally after a pause.

“That happened,” Bull says one more time. “Nothing else.”

Cullen rubs his face. “Maker!” he hisses.

“Another game of chess?” Bull asks, his hands are still on Cullen’s shoulders.

Cullen takes another breath in, releasing it slowly. “Sure,” he says, a little shakily. “Sure, I’ll play.”

Bull lets go of him, taking a seat on the opposite side. He takes one black and one white piece and hides them under the table and then presents his large closed fists to Cullen. Cullen picks one and gets white, nodding a little.

“You play chess, Dorian?” Bull asks.

“I play,” Dorian says cautiously, but the evening isn’t shaping at all like he expected it to.

“You should come and watch Cullen play,” Bull says, gesturing him to come over. “He’s very good.”

“Shut it,” Cullen waves. “A three year old just beat me.” But his voice sounds pleased.

Dorian takes his laptop and comes to sit next to Bull, watching them to set up the game. They’ve clearly done this before, playing a fast and brutal game — Bull sends his soldiers crashing at Cullen’s and Cullen responds in kind with his templars and wardens soon surrounding Bull’s king. The game ends only few pieces on the board with Cullen’s win, and his mouth twitches a little, as if he’s trying not to smile. Bull laughs, the sound grumbling in his chest.

“Good one,” he nods amicably. “Dorian, you want to try?”

Dorian shakes his head a little. “Ah, not this time, I’m afraid. I should probably get going.”

Bull looks at him and nods a little.

“Set it up again,” he says to Cullen, getting up to see Dorian to the door.

Once at the door Dorian glances at Cullen’s back, then up at Bull.

“Another time,” Bull murmurs so low it’s just about audible. “You look good. I like it when you make yourself pretty for me.”

His eye looking at Dorian’s so intense Dorian has to take a deep breath and stop himself from touching Bull.

“Another time,” Dorian says and then Bull is leaning down at the same time as Dorian reaches up.

Their lips meet somewhere in the middle, just a gentle touch, then another. Bull leans down further and this time there’s a hint of tongue sliding against Dorian’s lips, and Dorian can’t help a sharp inhale, his lips opening as an invitation. Invitation that Bull takes, deepening the kiss until they’re interrupted by Cullen.

“When I’m not here, please,” Cullen says without turning his head.

Bull straightens his back, grinning down at Dorian who is staring back with eyes heavy with lust. 

“Keep those fires going,” Bull murmurs, and maybe his eye is a little heavy too.

Dorian licks his lips and nods, willing his legs to move. Bull watches Dorian until the elevator doors close behind him.

***

`Rilienus: So what’s new today?`  
`Dorian: Nothing much. Watched Bull and Cullen play chess.`  
`Rilienus: How exciting. You’re really living the life.`


	6. Every mouth you’ve ever kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Few beers on the roof lead to something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _all the girls you’ve ever loved, i think i loved them too._   
>  _interlude for the grand sonata_   
>  _every mouth you’ve ever kissed_   
>  _was just practice_   
>  _all the bodies you’ve ever undressed_   
>  _and ploughed into_   
>  _were preparing you for me._   
>  _i don’t mind tasting them in the_   
>  _memory of your mouth_   
>  _they were a long hallway_   
>  _a door half-open_   
>  _a single suitcase still on the conveyor belt_   
>  _was it a long journey?_   
>  _did it take you long to find me?_   
>  _you’re here now,_   
>  _welcome home._   
>  _― Warsan Shire_   
> 

Dorian and Felix are sitting on the roof of Dorian’s building, enjoying the spring sun.

It has been a few days since Felix’s first treatment and he had returned to work much to Alexius’ chagrin. Dorian hates to get stuck in the middle of it, but when Felix suggests that he needs some time out of the house, he agrees and promises Alexus to look after Felix. They stop at Felix’s favourite deli to fill up a basket with food: marinated olives and stuffed peppers from Antiva, Ferelden style smoked sausages with potato salad, and dark dense Kirkwall bread. The food from this Hightown deli costs more than Dorian has spent in food all week but Felix pays for it and refuses Dorian’s attempt to pitch in.

They end up on the roof, eating food with their hands, making a mess and laughing. Dorian likes seeing Felix like this, outside the _Bibliopola_ and out of his father’s shadow, he seems to come out of his shell. Turns out Felix went to a university in Orlais and he’s in a middle of telling a story about an outrageously snobbish Orlais student party he once went to when Bull comes to the roof.

Dorian lifts his head, his still grinning wide from Felix’s story when he locks eyes with Bull. Bull returns the grin and Dorian’s stomach flips.

“Dorian, Felix,” Bull says, setting down his own food next to the grill. 

“Hey Bull,” Felix says, glancing thoughtfully at Dorian.

Truth is, Dorian has been behind Bull’s door twice since their kiss, both times his knock had gone unanswered and Dorian has started to doubt if Bull had been serious about his invitation. His face probably betrays some of his hesitation because Bull tilts his head a little, nodding at him.

“Doing alright, Dorian?” he asks as he starts heating up the barbecue.

“Yeah, good,” Dorian nods back. “Where’s Cullen?”

“I think Evelyn took him for his appointment,” Bull shrugs. Then: “I haven’t seen him few in few days, I’ve been working night shifts.” Eyeing Dorian as if to see if he answered the question Dorian never asked.

“Oh,” Dorian says and relaxes little. “I’ve never asked, what do you do?”

“City guard,” Bull says. “Boss likes to hire big guys to patrol Lowtown. And I get to pretty much pick my own shifts which works for taking care of the kid.”

“You have a kid?” Felix asks, reaching for the container of olives.

“In a roundabout way,” Bull says while lighting up the coals on the barbecue. “I came to Kirkwall at the same time as another ex-Qunari I met on the road, and she was pregnant at a time. We shacked up for a few years so I’ve known the kid since he was born. His mother needs some time for herself so I take care of him as much as I can.”

“You’re a Tal-Vashoth?” Dorian asks sitting up and before he has time to stop himself.

Felix looks at him amused because in the past few days he’s caught Dorian with a book about the Qun more than once. Bull looks at him and maybe he seems pleased about Dorian’s interest too.

“Then… you must have come from Seheron?” Felix asks, raising his eyebrows and Bull’s smile melts away.

“Yeah,” he says and turns his back, attending to the barbecue.

Dorian frowns at Felix who shrugs, raising his hands. They’re both of course aware of Seheron — there is always something about the ongoing conflict in the Tevinter papers Alexius orders to _Bibliopola_ , and one of the subjects the papers like to gloat over are the number of Qunari deserters. Dorian has always suspected that the numbers on Tevinter side are just as high but somehow that issue is never brought up.

Awkward silence is cut off by slamming of the door as a blond elf girl pushes it open, she’s carrying a crate of beer. Behind her is a tall black haired Qunari woman who grins wide when she sees Bull.

“Herah!” Bull says returning the grin. “Valo-Kas is in town?”

“Sure is,” the elf says, slamming the beers down.

Herah comes to Bull and kisses him on the mouth which Bull returns until the elf punches him in the ribs. 

“None of that, ya pillock,” she says and Bull fakes surrender, lifting his hands laughing.

“All yours, Sera,” he says. “Just saying hello.”

“Why dontcha do it using words like normal people instead of snogging other people’s wives,” Sera says pointing two fingers at her eyes and then towards Bull.

Herah sits down on a deck chair and stretches, glancing at Dorian and Felix.

“Going to introduce us to your friends, Bull?” she asks. It’s the first time she’s spoken and she has a pleasant deep voice.

“Dorian’s just moved to 22 few weeks back,” Bull says and Dorian lifts his hand in a greeting still trying to bring his face into neutral after that kiss. “His friend Felix.” Felix nods. “Sera’s in 35, Herah’s a mercenary with Valo-Kas and mostly out of town.”

Sera looks at Bull and squints a little but doesn’t say anything.

“Help yourself to some beers,” Sera says getting two beers from the crate and plopping herself onto Herah’s lap.

Dorian raises his eyebrows to Felix and when Felix nods he gets up and brings them both a beer. Felix offers Herah and Sera rest of their cheese stuffed peppers which they accept, getting a “ooh very fancy!” from Sera and approving nod from Herah. Bull is back to his usual relaxed self but Dorian hasn’t forgotten about his reaction to the question about Seheron, and he fights to swallow further questions as he watches Bull cook and joke with Herah. 

Felix leaves his beer half drank, and excuses himself half an hour later. Dorian gets up to leave with him but Felix waves him back down.

“You don’t have to leave because of me, I know the way out,” he smiles. “It was nice meeting you guys.”

They all say their goodbyes to Felix and when he’s gone Bull looks at Dorian.

“He’s sick?” he asks quietly.

“Cancer,” Dorian says, his shoulders slumping a little but he leans in to get another beer. “He started chemo a few days ago.”

“Shit,” Sera says and Dorian sighs.

“Quite,” he agrees, leaning back on his deck chair.

Bull gets up to adjust the coals on the barbecue but when he comes back he sits next to Dorian, squeezing his shoulder briefly before settling onto his own chair with his beer. The wordless gesture is an oddly comforting one and Dorian smiles briefly to himself.

Most of the evening goes by with Herah and Bull swapping stories of mercenary life. Herah has been hunting smugglers on the coast and Bull tells her the latest news of the Lowtown night life and Bull’s patrols at the dock. Dorian drinks beer and enjoys the peace, half listening and half staring out to the city until Sera lets them know that there have been enough war stories shared for one evening by straddling Herah and kissing her hard. Bull laughs heartily.

“Fine, I get the message!” he says, slowly standing up, stretching.

Dorian stares at the kissing women almost hypnotised for few seconds before Bull shoves him a little. Dorian snaps out of it and starts to get up too, but it’s only then that he realises how many beers he’s drunk. He stumbles but Bull is there to catch him, of course he is, and Dorian looks up face flushed.

“Alright?” Bull grins a little, not letting go of Dorian’s arm.

“Quite alright,” Dorian says and smiles back. “I think I need to use the bathroom.”

Sera makes a little whooping noise at them when Bull, still holding onto Dorian, makes sure he steps over the threshold and doesn’t fall down the stairs when they exit the roof. But when they’re alone in the elevator Dorian leans into Bull, pressing his face into the big man’s chest. He can feel Bull chuckle more than he hears it, and a big hand pats his hair, though it’s not the gesture Dorian had been hoping for. He’s even more disappointed when he realises that Bull is getting them off on the second floor and not at Bull’s apartment.

“I thought… you had invited me over,” Dorian says frowning and manages not to slur his words too much.

“Maybe another time,” Bull says and grins at Dorian’s ever deepening frown. “I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Shouldn’t _I_ be the judge of that?” Dorian says and then he grabs Bull by the horn and pulls his head down for a kiss.

Bull needs a little coaxing this time, but Dorian licks his lips teasing them open, sliding his tongue between them. Then Bull takes over, pressing a hand on Dorian’s lower back pulling him closer and tipping him slightly and when Dorian gasps Bull kisses him hard, tongue invading his mouth. Hard to say how long the kiss lasts, but when Bull finally releases him he has to hold onto Dorian’s shoulders before the mage can find his balance again. They’re still standing outside the elevators and Cullen’s door.

“ _Are_ you going to invite me over?” Dorian says and his voice breaks a little and he clears his throat, embarrassed. “I’m not used to… anyone resisting my wiles.”

Bull looks at him again, as if trying to decide if he can trust Dorian’s judgement. “Alright,” he says finally. “But we need to talk about a few things first.”

“I thought we could use our mouths for more interesting things,” Dorian says pressing the elevator button again.

“We can do those things too,” Bull says and he sounds amused. “But first we need a few ground rules.”

Dorian backs into the elevator once the doors open, pulling Bull in by his hand.

“Rules,” he says clicking his tongue annoyed. “I’ve had just about enough of rules to last me a lifetime. That’s why I’m not in Tevinter anymore.”

Bull lets Dorian pull him in but when Dorian tries to grope him he grabs a hold of his hand and pins it quite easily above Dorian’s head.

“I promise, once the rules are down, we will have fun,” he murmurs and then he’s all in Dorian’s space and Dorian breathes in his smell which makes his head spin even more than it already is.

Dorian reaches in for another kiss but then Bull lets go, and Dorian hadn’t even noticed that the elevator had stopped moving.

“Come on then,” Bull grins, leading the way. 

In Bull’s apartment he throws the keys on the table and points at a chair. 

“Sit. Let’s talk,” he says, sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“Why do I feel like I’m 15 and about to get grounded,” Dorian mutters but he sits down, eyeing Bull suspiciously.

Bull ignores his petty insolence. 

“So,” he says instead. “First rule: it’s only sex.”

Dorian looks at him surprised. 

“I mean: this isn’t exclusive, we’re not dating and I’m not in love with you,” Bull says. “I can guarantee you at least one spectacular orgasm tonight but beyond that, there are no promises. Are you okay with that?”

“Oh,” Dorian says and can’t quite stop the sinking feel in the pit of his stomach. “Well, that is quite common arrangement where I’m from.” 

He can’t quite stop the sneer, and there’s a faint frown on Bull’s face.

“Are you okay with it?” Bull asks again, because he _would_ notice that Dorian hadn’t actually answered the question.

“Yes fine,” Dorian says and can’t quite hide the contemptuous tone of which even his mother would be proud of. “But what about—” Dorian adds because he remembers what it was like to be pinned against the wall by Bull, and his mouth moves faster than his brain. “If I want… just sex again?”

Bull’s shoulders relax a touch. “It’s not off the table,” he admits. “As long as you understand the conditions.”

“Fine,” Dorian nods. “I agree. Can we get to it, then?”

This is fast becoming the strangest illicit liaison he’s ever partaken in, and he’s done some strange things in his time.

“Two more things,” Bull says, lifting two fingers. “Secondly, if I say stop, or if you say stop, we stop. No exceptions, no hesitation. No hard feelings.”

Dorian nods again, a little bit more confused. “Sure,” he says. “Stop, fine.”

Bull pauses, watching him but Dorian doesn’t argue so he continues.

“Final thing. I won’t hurt you,” he lets the words sit for a moment. “Lot of people come to me because I have horns and I’m big and strong, and that’s fine. But I’m not into power play,” and there’s a pause and Dorian imagines a word there, _anymore_ , but it doesn’t come. “I’m into giving and receiving pleasure, do you understand?”

“But what if… pain is my pleasure?” Dorian asks and his face feels hot again.

“No,” Bull says plainly. “It’s non-negotiable. I won’t do it. Either you accept it or you leave.”

“Okay,” Dorian says slowly. “I accept.”

“Repeat them back to me, I want to be sure you understand,” Bull says.

“It’s only sex, there’s no hurting and if someone says ‘stop’ we stop,” Dorian says. “What else do you want, my signature on blood to go with it?”

Bull laughs. “Unless it’s some kind of lewd ‘Vint mating ritual I’m unaware of, that won’t be necessary.” 

He stands up stretching, so Dorian follows suit. When he steps closer Bull has one more question.

“Anything you want to add to the rules?” he asks, touching Dorian’s shoulder gently but his smile has a mischievous tilt to it. “I’ve never done it with a mage before… you’re not gonna pull any weird magic crap on me?”

“I promise not to summon any demons or suck your blood,” Dorian says and smirks back at him. “And I’ve never done it with a Q— ah, Tal-Vashoth before… you’re not going chew cud on me are you?”

Bull’s eye narrows for a second and his hand goes into Dorian’s hair, at first it feels like his fingers are curling and he’s going to tug but instead he just pushes his fingers through, then pulling Dorian closer.

“I’ll try to contain my bovine urges,” Bull murmurs and kisses Dorian again.

This time Dorian wraps his arms around Bull, leaning closer, lets himself get dizzy of the man’s smell and his touch. 

“How do you like it, I wonder?” Bull whispers when they finally pull apart, tracing finger around Dorian’s ear and down his neck. “You like to be fucked? Sucked?”

“I-ah…” Dorian says and he has to take a breath in to steady his voice. “I _do_ love those things.”

Bull’s fingers slide lower, start to open buttons on Dorian’s shirt.

“What else?” Bull asks as he opens more buttons, revealing more chest and and without waiting for an answer he kisses, licks the bared skin. “Wanted to do this for awhile…” 

Dorian gasps, hands slipping and then finding Bull’s horns, rough and surprisingly solid.

“That’s right,” Bull murmurs, opening more buttons and then carefully getting down on his knees, gently pushing Dorian against the edge of the table. “You’ve wanted to touch them too, haven’t you?”

Dorian nods. “I have…” he tries to go for a smirk but it all turns into a weird turned on grimace when Bull brings his mouth Dorian’s crotch. Dorian is wearing jeans but he can feel the damp heat of Bull’s breath on his cock and his knees buckle.

“Can you stand up, big guy, or should we just move to the bedroom?” Bull grins, looking up.

Dorian’s fingers are loosely around Bull’s horns as he looks down.

“Do it again,” he breathes. “Please.”

Bull does, mouth and then hand tracing outlines of Dorian’s erection through the thick denim, squeezing. Fingers tugging on the top button to tease it open, but when Dorian tries to help Bull pushes his hand away, gently placing it back on the horn.

“Let me?” he says looking up, and takes hold of the fabric with his teeth, pulling.

The gesture would seem ridiculous if Bull wasn’t so good at it, buttons come undone and the pressure on Dorian’s cock lessens. This wasn’t a planned hookup so Dorian isn’t dressed for it — unfortunately he’s not wearing the little see-through number he had on that went undiscovered last time, but luckily it’s not boxers either, just his usual black cotton briefs. Dorian grips the horns tighter as Bull pulls his jeans down his hips, just low enough so that Bull gains access to his cock again — this time he mouths the balls through the briefs, leaving the shaft untouched until Dorian whimpers.

“Talk to me,” Bull murmurs, his voice a little rough. “Doing okay?”

“Great,” Dorian swallows and forces himself to blink because his vision is going blurry. “I want— I want you to suck me—“

Even as he’s finishing the sentence Bull’s mouth has already moved on the shaft of Dorian’s cock, his time licking and sucking it through the cotton. Damp pressure makes Dorian buck into it, whining for more, for proper contact but instead Bull teases him even more with his fingers, pressing them into the cleft of Dorian’s ass, blunt pressure agains his anus without even a hope of real penetration. Dorian’s knees buckle again and this time Bull has to steady him.

“Maybe we _should_ get to the bedroom,” Bull chuckles, and Dorian already misses his mouth on his cock, the wet fabric cooling fast.

Dorian is not a small man but Bull picks him up like he weighs nothing. This brings his mouth within reach and Dorian kisses him, wet and sloppy and Bull doesn’t break the kiss even when he sets Dorian down on the bed. Dorian whines into the kiss, he’s overwhelmed by the want of Bull’s body pinning him on the mattress but again despite the looming promise he doesn’t quite get what he wants.

“I want you naked,” he groans. “I want to touch you. I want to feel you.”

Fingers, his and Bull’s opening Bull’s shirt, pulling it off. Dorian’s hands on the smooth grey skin, marred by scars and for a fleeting moment Dorian thinks of Seheron and Bull’s reluctance to talk about it as he traces a particularly long scar across Bull’s heart. All throughout Bull’s watching his face, reading his expressions and Dorian feels like an open book under that gaze.

“About that cock sucking—“ Dorian says because he’s not ready for that look. If this is to be just sex, there are pages he doesn’t want read, not by Bull, not by anyone. “Or straight to the main course?”

“Oh I definitely want to suck your cock,” Bull grins, his hand going down to knead it again, this time his fingers slipping under the waistband to feel the bare skin.

Bull runs his fingers along the length, rubbing the underside and Dorian lifts his hips.

“Please.” His voice sounds thin, pleading.

Bull grins wider, withdrawing his fingers, but only to pull Dorian’s underwear down, then his jeans too and Dorian helps him so they can finally be kicked off.

“Please,” he says again because it’s the only word he can think of. “Please, please—”

“Since you ask so nicely,” Bull says and brings his mouth to Dorian’s cock.

The heat of it after the cold damp fabric feels scorching and Dorian moans out loud, his hips lifting off the bed. Bull’s tongue doesn’t feel like any human tongue that has sucked him, it feels longer and rougher and oh— what _is_ that thing that he does with it? Dorian’s hips are moving on their own again but this time Bull presses them down on the bed, holding him still as he swallows Dorian’s cock with ease and without hesitation. His tongue rubs and teases and twists, his lips press against the shaft as he sucks hard.

“ _Kaffas_ ,” Dorian swears, and without even noticing it he’s gripping Bull’s horns again. “Bull—“

As if to read what Dorian wants to say, Bull wraps his fingers around the base of Dorian’s cock, squeezing tight so he can continue, head bobbing slowly now, tongue dragging and rubbing as he moves his lips. His eye is intent on Dorian’s face, and Dorian can’t help but to feel self conscious so he turns his head to give Bull the better side of his face, relaxes it into that dreamy expression Rilienus always adored. Bull’s mouth stills for a second as he sucks on the head of Dorian’s cock, his tongue wrapping around it and then he pulls off with almost an obscene pop.

“Let me see you,” Bull says in a low, almost hoarse voice. 

Suddenly Dorian is even more embarrassed and he buries his head into the crook of his elbow. He half expects Bull to pull his arm away, to make him reveal his face but Bull does no such thing. Instead he can hear rustling and then Bull tosses his shorts to the floor, which means— Dorian pulls in a breath and peeks from under his arm. Bull is indeed naked, `“the rumours are indeed true and he is fully proportional”`, but then Bull gets off the bed. It surprises Dorian enough to lift his arm from his face, but Bull just leans in to get the lube from the nightstand drawer.

“Suddenly shy?” Bull asks, glancing at him. “Do you want me to fuck you from behind?”

Dorian didn’t think it would be possible to get harder than he already was, but somehow his cock manages it.

“Yeah,” he whispers because he doesn’t trust his voice not to break. “That would be great.”

He rolls over and gets to his hands and knees as Bull climbs back to bed.

“Do you like it nice and slow?” Bull murmurs, leaning in to kiss Dorian’s shoulder. “Or do you like it hard?”

Dorian groans, pressing against Bull’s touch. “I like it hard,” he breathes. “As hard as you can give it—”

This time Bull groans too, and Dorian can feel his hardness against his thigh.

“You like it hard?” Dorian asks, pressing his hips against Bull’s erection but he can already guess the answer.

“I love it hard,” Bull whispers. “And you have the sexiest little ass, just begging to be fucked…”

“Fuck, Bull—“ Dorian whines and Bull is done with teasing now too as he straightens his back, opening the lube.

“You like to watch me? Then watch…” Bull says as he presses Dorian’s shoulders to the mattress gently, so his ass tilts into a better angle for the big man.

He moves his hips aside a little so that Dorian can see him pour lube over his cock and start to stroke it — his hands are wonderfully large but still slide a good way up and down the length of it. Dorian’s mouth opens and he pulls in breath, suddenly with a burning desire to suck Bull, to feel his mouth and throat fill with that glorious monstrosity, to taste his come on his lips. He even moves towards it but he’s only stopped by Bull’s other hand on his ass, between his cheeks and his fingers probe his anus.

“Your hands,” Bull says, voice low. “Use them… hold your cheeks apart for me.”

Dorian obeys, his face burning a little — Bull says these things so casually, unlike anyone Dorian has been with before. Then all thoughts escape him as Bull’s finger pushes in, thick and slick, up to first knuckle and then on the second thrust all the way. Bull’s breathing changes, he’s gripping himself tighter and then forcing himself to relax.

“You’re tight, good,” he says and swallows. “Gonna feel so fucking good around my dick.”

More fingers follow and they’re both panting. Bull lets go of his cock to concentrate on his fingers, opening Dorian, leaning over him to lick and nip on his back.

“It’ll fit,” he tells Dorian as answer to the question Dorian never said aloud but had been starting to wander. “But if it feels too much, just tell me to stop.”

Dorian nods, closing his eyes and letting air out of his lungs. Bull’s cock is at his ass and he can feel Bull breathe out too as he pushes in. There’s no pain, of that Bull made sure, but it is intense and _almost_ too much. Bull eases it in, stroking Dorian’s back to ease his tension, then inch by inch… slow, measured thrusts, hand loosely on Dorian’s hips, letting him get used to it.

“Let me see you,” Bull says again, other hand in Dorian’s hair moving his head to the side, fingers ghosting his jaw. He pushes his cock in deeper with a slightly sharper thrust and watches Dorian’s jaw slacken as he moans. “That’s right, beautiful— don’t hide it—” 

Then Bull is starting to fuck Dorian with increasing speed, hands moving to hold firmly on Dorian’s hips and Dorian wishes Bull would grip just that little bit harder, he craves for the sting of pain that turns into pleasure when done just right.

“Harder!” Dorian begs, grabbing the sheets, eyes falling closed.

And Bull does. He pushes in all the way and Dorian is full, so full breathing his hard for a moment. Then his grip on the sheets doesn’t keep him still anymore and he presses his hands against the headboard to keep himself in place. And Bull moves into him hard, again and again, and Dorian moans loudly because it’s so much he can hardly take it and yet every thrust makes him feel more amazing than the previous one. And just when he thinks it can’t get any better he can feel Bull’s hand on his cock and it _does_. Dorian bucks into it and moans and he’s so close when Bull’s hips still.

“Turn around,” Bull groans, hands now on Dorian’s shoulders, rearranging him. “ _Please_.”

Dorian doesn’t resist, he lets Bull turn him and for a moment his leg is straight up as Bull settles him on his back. And then the big man is between his legs and on top of him just like Dorian wished for, his weight pinning him down.

“Yes, _kaffas_ ,” Dorian swears again. “ _Bull_ —“

“Dorian—” Bull calls him as he thrusts hard, arms wrapped around Dorian to keep him still to get even deeper.

Dorian wraps his legs around Bull’s waist, or tries to but doesn’t quite reach and when he looks up he sees himself reflected back from a mirror placed on the ceiling just above the bed. He gasps at at sight of himself, face flushed and eyes wide, hair messy, framed by Bull’s horns and then Bull himself, rippling back muscles working and his thick hips and ass, rolling into him.

“Look at _me_ —“ Bull snaps and it’s a new commanding tone Dorian hasn’t heard before and before he’s even had time to think about it he’s obeyed Bull, staring at him. “Let me _see_ —“

His voice breaks as he comes and he pulls Dorian down onto his cock and the force and the words bring Dorian over the edge and he follows Bull as Bull whispers _yes, yes_ and holds him tight when his body doesn’t stop shaking.

“Stunning,” Bull murmurs as Dorian finally settles and Bull releases him, pulling out but not off him, still watching.

Dorian breathes and closes his eyes, the room is spinning a little but Bull grounds him to it. He opens them when Bull moves a bit, reaching for a soft rag by the bed — _for this purpose_ , Dorian thinks — watching him wipe Dorian clean, and then himself. And because Dorian knows it’s there now, he can help but to look up into the mirror again.

“Should I have mentioned it?” Bull chuckles, laying down next to him and Dorian watches them in fascination. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Dorian grins a little, watching his mirror image do it too. “I should have seen it when you were sucking me.”

“I had you distracted,” Bull says smugly and he makes eye contact with Dorian through their reflections.

But there’s something odd about that look and Dorian rolls over to his side, his back towards Bull. _Only sex_ , he reminds himself and slowly pulls himself to sit up on the side of the bed, stretching. Bull’s still watching him with that strange look in his eye.

“I better go,” Dorian says and picks up his jeans off the floor, finding his wet underwear bunched up inside it. He scrunches his nose a little and Bull chuckles. 

“I can lend you a pair of shorts,” he says helpfully. “You just need to get up one floor, it’s unlikely you’ll run into anyone.”

He sits up too, cracking his neck and touches Dorian’s shoulder gently, rubbing it with his fingers.

“Just hold on—“

He digs into his closet and pulls out a pair of green and purple striped shorts, handing them to Dorian who looks mildly offended.

“I think they’re the only ones with drawstring… so the shouldn’t fall off,” he says waving them again when Dorian doesn’t take them. “Which is worse? Wet pants, no pants or these pants?”

“If Cullen sees me, he’ll know,” Dorian frowns but he takes them.

“He already knows anyway, you were pretty loud outside his door earlier,” Bull shrugs. “Are we in the closet about this?”

“No,” Dorian says curtly, starting to pull the shorts on — on Bull they’re shorts but on Dorian they go all the way down to his ankles. “These are— I didn’t even know you could buy these kinds of garments.”

Bull laughs again as Dorian pulls the drawstring tight. It’ll do, and if Cullen will see, he will see. Bull sees Dorian to the door — he hasn’t bothered putting on any clothes and Dorian gets distracted by the expanse of grey skin, now flaccid but still sizeable cock and thighs almost as wide as Dorian’s waist. He turns around when Bull opens the door, seemingly uncaring if anyone will see him.

“Thank you, I guess is the correct thing to say,” Dorian says looking up to him. “In Tevinter it didn’t really matter what you said after these kinds of affairs because chances were we’d never see each other again, so I often opted for sneaking out in silence. But here—“ Dorian waves a little. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Thank _you_ ,” Bull says and leans down to kiss him. It’s a different kiss now, less heated but more… familiar, as if to reassure Dorian of his presence and about his experience. They both are reluctant to break the kiss, but eventually end it must. Bull looks at him without moving away and his eye seems very dark. “I’ll see you around,” he says quietly. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Dorian doesn’t hear the door close so he assumes Bull is watching him until he disappears behind the elevator doors, but he doesn’t look back.

***

`Rilienus: Whatcha doing?`  
`Rilienus: Do do do... bored now`  
`Rilienus: Where ARE you?`  



	7. Broken chords and unnamed cries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian takes care of friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _No walls_   
>  _Can keep me protected_   
>  _No sleep_   
>  _Nothing in between me and the rain_   
>  _—Florence + The Machine, "Hurricane Drunk"_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Trigger warning for brief description of vomiting. Skip the first part if this applies to you.

Felix goes for his second chemo treatment a few weeks later. When they come back Felix looks weary and Alexius downright angry. This time there are no pleasantries exchanged and Dorian isn't surprised to see Alexius go directly into his study to work on his latest theory. He hasn't shared any of them with Dorian save some overheard mutterings, but Alexius keeps removing books from _temporal magic_ section and Dorian doesn't like the implications one bit. But what he likes even less is the look on Felix's face as he watches his father disappear without another word.

"Upstairs?" Dorian asks touching his shoulder gently and Felix nods.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Felix says and he's right.

It's not pleasant, but Dorian crouches on the bathroom floor next to Felix as convulsions run through his body as it tries to get rid of the non-existing contents of his stomach. Dorian brings a wet cloth to wipe of the sweat from his friend's forehead and sits there with a lump in his throat while Felix clutches his hand in a wordless panic. 

Later, he reads to Felix in bed. 

This time it will be a few days before Felix returns to work, and when he does it's mostly just to sit on the computer working on the website he's been slowly building. They close the shop for long lunches and sit in the nearby park. Felix scrunches his nose complaining about the weird taste of food, but Dorian takes it as a challenge and even though sometimes it takes several trip to the deli to find exactly what Felix can stomach he eventually always finds something. They talk about books and argue about film adaptations. Occasionally Dorian stays late and they watch those movies in the Alexius' living room and continue arguing.

Later, those seem like the good days.

***

Eventually Dorian tells Rilienus about the bearded mage, and then about Bull.

Afterwards he doesn't get a text back for a day and then he stops trying. Rilienus finally replies another day later and even then just very politely. It makes Dorian want to scream, but he holds his tongue even though he wants to remind Rilienus what they agreed when Dorian left, even though they both had known "just friends" was probably not going to work. He tries to be fair and tries to think how it would have felt had Rilienus been the first one to go to bed with someone else, and can't pretend it would have been easy.

But he didn't, and now there's Bull and "just sex" with him.

Sex has been good, for the few times they've had it. First time Dorian had been drunk and maybe it was better that way because after it Dorian hasn't had to think about the booty call protocol too much. He comes and knocks on Bull's door with his laptop, and if Bull is alone he's free to proposition better things to do with his time than read emails. Often Bull isn't alone — he's either with Cullen or Krem, and sometimes Issala is there too. The child and Dorian have come to an understanding where they mostly ignore each other, though Dorian sometimes catches him staring. When weather is good Bull likes to spend time on the roof with various neighbours sharing food and stories, and Dorian likes to sit and listen and very slowly he starts to feel like he _belongs_.

But when they're alone, it's a different story. After the first time Bull doesn't make him repeat the rules, but Dorian certainly hasn't forgotten. First two are easy — Dorian always leaves after they're done and Bull never tries to make him stay, and the word 'stop' is never used by either. The third one is harder because Dorian remembers too well what it felt like being pinned against the wall by Bull, and Dorian hasn't been able to coax him to give him more than brief moments of Bull pinning him to the bed by the sheer bulk of his body. If Dorian struggles Bull immediately lets go and backs off, and though Dorian certainly wishes some of his lovers in the past had been as gentlemanly as that, Dorian is also now old enough to know what he enjoys in bed and out of it.

And maybe wanting Bull to pin him down, hold his wrists until they bruise and ache to the bone would be easier to forget if there weren't glimpses of Bull wanting to do just that. There are those brief moments when his self-imposed control cracks and his fingers curl in Dorian's hair, or when he grabs hold of Dorian's hips tighter than he means to, or when his voice takes that commanding tone for a second that makes Dorian gasp for breath.

Sex is good, but it could be _better_. 

***

One night when Dorian is getting ready for bed, there’s a sharp knock on his door. Bull has never knocked on Dorian’s door before and who else could it be? The last person Dorian expects to be behind his door is Cullen.

Cullen is in his wheelchair, rubbing his thigh with stiff fingers and looking up at Dorian. His eyes are red and flighty, catching Dorian’s only for a second before moving somewhere behind him.

“Where’s Bull?” Cullen asks, his voice a little hoarse. 

“Evening Cullen,” Dorian says, because his mother taught him _manners_. “He’s not here.”

“Oh,” Cullen says, his fingers curling into a fist, and he keeps kneading his leg. 

“Did you check downstairs?” Dorian asks, after the pause has grown too long.

“Yes, yes, there’s no one there,” Cullen says and clicks his tongue frustrated.

“He’s probably at work,” Dorian says and he hesitates until against all his better judgement he adds: “Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not fucking alright,” Cullen snaps and his eyes keep staring behind Dorian. 

Dorian remembers Bull’s words about keeping his lyrium locked up, and he does.

“Can I— help?” Dorian asks finally, even though getting teeth pulled would seem like the more attractive option right now.

Cullen’s eyes stop and he seems to think hard what to say, licking his lips.

“Do you—“ he says stops, fingers moving to the armrest of his chair and gripping it tight. “You wouldn’t happen to have—“

“Cullen—“ Dorian says quietly. “I can’t— I won’t. Even if I would, non-mages can’t—“

“Fine,” Cullen swallows audibly and spins his chair around with surprising dexterity and Dorian watches him roll down the hallway.

“Hey,” Dorian calls after him. “Maybe, if you want… we could play chess or something.”

Cullen’s chair stops, and Dorian can see the nervous twitch of his fingers, starting to drum the pattern on the armrest. 

“I don’t need your pity,” Cullen mutters without turning.

“Not out of pity,” Dorian says, and what if it’s a lie. He promised Bull to be a good neighbor. “I wasn’t tired yet, anyway.”

Cullen seems to consider it for a second. “Fine,” he says finally.

Cullen’s apartment is an exact copy of Dorian’s, only very sparsely furnished. The living room doesn't have a sofa, just a small TV in the corner. Most of the space is taken by the kitchen table, with only a single chair, and most of the table is covered with newspapers and junk mail in various piles. Kitchen counters have several containers of meals, opened and unopened, which Dorian assumes come from the meals on wheels service Cullen hates so much.

“Sit,” Cullen says pointing at the chair and rolls into the bedroom, coming back a moment later with the board and pieces. “I don’t have anything to offer to you.”

It doesn’t sound like an apology, and there’s a slight challenge in Cullen’s eyes which Dorian doesn’t take.

“It’s alright,” he says. “Shall we?”

They set up the pieces, and first game goes to Cullen, quite easily, as Dorian struggles to remember any good strategies. It’s been some years since he played last, and even then Dorian wasn’t very good - but he takes it in good humour and lines up the pieces again. Cullen doesn't try to hide his little self-satisfied smile as he makes his first move.

"How long have you known Bull?" Dorian asks after a few moves when Cullen seems to finally have relaxed a little. 

"He was living here when I moved in," Cullen says, not taking his eyes off the board even though the early game hardly warrants that much attention. After a pause: "About two years."

"Oh, so you must know Ash then, too," Dorian says and he can see Cullen tense.

"Yes," Cullen says, his lip twitching a little and he rubs it with his thumb.

Dorian knows enough not to dig, no matter how much he wants to.

"And the kid," he says instead.

Cullen picks up a pawn and captures one of Dorian's, moving it aside.

"Yeah," he says. "He's a good kid."

No more is said of the subject before the next game. Cullen's victory isn't as crushing this time and he nods a little.

"I thought you wouldn't be any kind of opposition but maybe there's hope for you yet," he says. "If the kiddo can learn it, so can you."

Dorian can't help but the smile.

"Templars don't get married right?" he asks. "You seem so good with him."

"I have a lot of siblings," Cullen says. "Siblings and cousins. Grew up on a farm."

"Ferelden?" Dorian asks.

"In a little shithole you've never heard of," Cullen says. "But I didn't want to be a farmer."

"Is that why you're not going back?" Dorian asks, sending his templar out.

"I won't be a burden," Cullen says and Dorian remembers him saying that before, too. "And I would be useless there. They don't need a cripple to add to their problems."

 _It's not a burden if they volunteer_ , Bull had said but Dorian doesn't think they're at a level yet where he could say anything like that.

"Kirkwall is an alright place to be,” Dorian says instead and shrugs. 

Cullen scoffs, but just maybe he looks relieved for not getting another lecture. _No lectures — I can do that,_ Dorian thinks. He loses the game again, but not before taking out half of Cullen’s pieces and Cullen looks downright pleased.

"Again!" he says and sets up the pieces once again.

They play in silence and this time Dorian concentrates on thinking several moves ahead. He's nearly startled when Cullen speaks again.

“The Iron Bull,” he says suddenly. “That’s what he used to call himself until _she_ ruined that too. Like she ruins everything she touches. Now he’s just Bull, that she can't take away.”

Dorian looks at Cullen surprised. “How did she ruin it?” he asks.

“How she ruins everything,” Cullen says and for a moment it looks like he’s not going to say anything more, but then he continues. “By twisting it, making it something that it’s not. Tried to make him like the name, even though he left to get away from it. In the end he didn’t want to have anything to do with it, not even the name.”

“Why did he leave? The Qun I mean,” Dorian asks, then, but Cullen doesn’t answer, just points at the board. It’s Dorian’s turn and he considers his move until Cullen’s fingers are twitching again. Dorian moves his warden and Cullen makes a little displeased sound.

“Ah! You missed your chance,” he says and moves his queen. “Check and checkmate in three turns.”

Dorian stares at the board and then clicks his tongue when he sees it. It’s getting really late and he only just manages to suppress a yawn, but Cullen seems to finally be breathing easy and his eyes have lost some of their redness. 

They set up the board one more time.

“So why did Bull leave?” Dorian asks again after the game is on its way. “Tal-Vashoth… that’s a big deal.”

“Why does any of them leave,” Cullen says. “He got tired of killing, I reckon.”

“I’ve read about Seheron,” Dorian says and it’s true, he’s been spending considerable time reading through everything Alexius has on the island. “The situation has been unbearable for decades… the amount of money and resources spent—“

“I don’t care what you’ve read,” Cullen interrupts him. “There’s nothing in those books that could possibly make you understand. Understand what it’s like to live it, day after day, month after month, year after year. Everyone breaks and when you do, you better pray the Maker that you can gather enough of the pieces so that you can hope to make a life for yourself afterwards. Bull did alright I think, but then he had the misfortune of meeting her. And her—“ Cullen hesitates for a second. “I don’t think she ever really left. Sometimes people are like that, physically they came back but—“

He blinks and it looks like he’s reliving some memory of his own with eyes staring at something Dorian can’t see. It’s not warm in the apartment yet Cullen is suddenly sweating. Then he swallows and looks down on the board, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

“If you don’t pay attention, you’re going to lose this one too,” he mutters.

Dorian stares at the board without seeing it, until Cullen points at Dorian's mage.

"Only hint I'll give you," Cullen says with a little smirk. "I just think you could be a decent opponent."

Thanks to Cullen's hint Dorian loses but only just, and now his eyes are starting to feel seriously heavy. Yet Cullen sets up the pieces once again and this time Dorian yawns openly.

"One more," he says and Cullen nods.

They won't quite finish the game. While Dorian is calculating his move, Cullen rests his head on his arms on the table and doesn't lift it when Dorian tells him it's his turn. Dorian stares at the board and grins because finally _this_ game will be his. He almost shakes Cullen awake to finish the game, but the templar finally looks at peace, snoring gently. Dorian thinks about going back to his own apartment and into his bed but decides to rest his eyes a little first, just in case Cullen wakes up to witness Dorian's victory.

He's soon sound asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading order: side chapter [In a restless world like this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5647057).


	8. Will you follow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Bull's relationship is changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Oh these little earthquakes_   
>  _Here we go again_   
>  _These little earthquakes_   
>  _Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces_   
>  _—Tori Amos, "Little Earthquakes"_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> If you haven't read [Ash's story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5737570) yet, I highly recommend you read it before this chapter. It's part of the [Ghost Stories](http://archiveofourown.org/series/366749) series - Call it Magic is the main story from Dorian's point of view, but all other stories (most of them from Bull's point of view) will be collected in there.

Dorian has found Bull to be a hands on guy. He likes to touch people and does it all the time: hands, arms, shoulders, backs, occasionally kisses as greetings — all his friends get these little gestures of appreciation. Bull hadn’t started to treat Dorian any different when they had started having sex, and there had been nothing that would have given it away to a casual observer.

But now, something has changed and Dorian doesn't know what it is. First the changes are so subtle Dorian is not sure if he's imagining them just because he wants it to be true — was that touch just a little bit longer, did Bull choose the kiss instead of a touch on the shoulder? But then he sees that Cullen can see it too, sometimes looking at them thoughtfully.

One evening Dorian is sitting cross-legged on Bull's sofa responding to one of his mother's particularly long and arduous emails, when after his game with Bull, Cullen gets up. It's one of Cullen's better nights and he's out of his chair using a cane to help him to walk, leaning on it now gesturing Bull to follow him as he's leaving. From the sofa Dorian can't see them at the door but he can hear Cullen talking in firm tones, and Bull responding in softer ones. He hears Cullen's final sharp "You know I'm right!" before Bull closes the door and returns to the living room.

"What was that about?" Dorian asks, looking up from his computer.

"Eh," Bull says shrugging a little. "Nothing important."

He sits down on the sofa, on the other end from Dorian, watching him. Dorian returns the gaze, and slowly closes his laptop.

"C'mere, then," Bull says, his voice dropping almost to a growl.

Dorian lets his laptop slide from his fingers to somewhere between the cushions and leans closer, letting Bull pull him onto his lap.

"Not feeling like sharing?" Dorian murmurs, but the only answer he gets is Bull's mouth on his.

Is there something different about the kiss too? Dorian chases the thought into the kiss, and when the answer isn't there, into another one. He's on top of Bull straddling him and feels particularly empowered because of it, slowly grinding himself against Bull's stomach. There are entirely too many clothes on them, Dorian decides as he starts to unbutton Bull's shirt, hands fumbling blindly at first and then helped by Bull. 

Bull is watching him then with new intensity as Dorian finally pushes the shirt away, and Dorian has to look away, not sure what to think of it. He chooses to look at Bull's body instead, dark nipples against the lighter grey skin and he leans into lick and suck them, one at a time. Bull groans, hand gently in Dorian's hair, encouraging, and Dorian kisses and licks his chest, moving further down.

"Shit," Bull murmurs and there's that tone again that makes Dorian shiver.

He's made his way down to the edge where Bull's bare skin stops and his shorts start, and Dorian's hand looks for Bull's cock through the fabric, finding it hard for him already. It's only then that he gathers enough courage to look up, rubbing Bull's hardness knowing it will be enough to melt any other expression off Bull's face. And he's right, Bull's jaw has gone slack, he's breathing more heavily now and the sight takes Dorian's breath away.

"I want to—" he has to clear his throat to continue. "I want to suck your cock," Dorian whispers.

Does it come off sexy or just plain horny? He doesn't care because Bull moans low, appreciative.

"Yeah," Bull swallows. "Hell yeah."

Dorian pulls the waistband down, he doesn't feel like teasing any longer and his mouth is already watering from the thought of Bull's thick cock on his tongue. He pushes the shorts further down, wrapping his fingers around the length, pulling the foreskin back and enjoying Bull's low _oh, oh_ and licks the dark head getting a longer _ooooh_ as a reward. Anticipation is half the fun until it isn't, and Dorian wraps his lips around Bull's cock and sucks. There's nothing he doesn't love about it: the taste of him, the feel of Bull's cock getting even harder as it slides deeper, the slight tremors of Bull's thighs under his palms. Bull's voice encouraging him, his hands grounding him, then Dorian moans too and he can't help his own hips pushing against the sofa cushions. 

Dorian would be more than happy to let Bull come in his mouth like this and is half way there when Bull starts pulling him off. Dorian's lips are puffy and wet and when he looks up his eyes are slightly unfocused and he's breathing heavy.

"Stunning," Bull says. Just the way he looks at Dorian makes him achingly hard. "C'mere, let me see you."

Dorian swallows, sitting up, and even though he's still dressed his trousers can't hide his state of arousal. 

"Perfect," Bull grins. "Let me take care of that for you…" 

Dorian glances down at Bull's cock, then smirks. "How about something more… mutually beneficial?" he suggests, and pulling off his t-shirt, slower than is strictly necessary. "How about, I go get the lube and ride you?"

It's not a question, not really, and he can see the moment Bull's breathing stops for a second before he grunts, his hands reaching for Dorian. "I can be persuaded…" he says, yet takes time to kiss Dorian, to taste him, before letting him get up.

Dorian doesn't take long to get the lube and when he comes back Bull has gotten rid of all of his clothes and is sitting on the sofa naked, slowly stroking himself. Dorian's heart skips one painful beat and he stops to watch. Bull sees him and grins, his hand stilling. 

"Watching? Or playing?" he asks, that intense look is back.

"Oh, playing," Dorian breathes, takes the remaining steps and kneels between Bull's legs.

"I thought this was going to be mutually beneficial?" Bull says smiling a little, reaching out to touch Dorian's jaw, tilting his head up a little so he has no option but to look back. "I want to make you feel good too."

"I'm feeling great," Dorian smiles, popping the top off the lube bottle. 

"How about you get rid of your pants then, and come up here?" Bull says, his eye getting heavy. "Come up here and let me open you up for me, hmm?" The last sound is a low murmur that makes Dorian shiver. "You like my fingers inside you, don't you."

"Bull," Dorian swallows, handing the lube to him.

He could make it slow and teasing, and Bull would surely appreciate it, but suddenly all Dorian wants is Bull's touch. Heart beating faster he unbuckles his belt and lets his trousers drop, stepping out of them and climbing onto Bull's lap.

"Beautiful," Bull murmurs into his ear, nipping, then shifting so that their bodies lock into place. His fingers feel slick already when he spreads Dorian's cheeks, eye locked into Dorian's. "Show me how it feels," Bull murmurs and then a finger pushes in.

Dorian does. It's easy to shut out that self-conscious part of himself when Bull's fingers curl and twist, brushing and then pushing against that sweet spot. It's easy when Bull's gaze is on him so heavy it could almost be a touch, when his voice fills his ears murmuring _show me, show me_ and then praising him when he does. With Bull its easy to just drop the usual pretence and give in, let his body show how good it feels. Dorian gives into every temptation to move, to moan, to push back into those fingers that tease him and then reward him for showing his pleasure.

"Can I fuck you?" Bull asks finally and Dorian can't nod fast enough.

His thighs are shaking but he helps Bull to position his cock, then with Bull's hands firmly spreading his ass Dorian lowers down to it. When he closes his eyes he feels almost dizzy with pleasure as he starts moving, Bull's cock sinking in deeper and deeper. Dorian presses his forehead against Bull's, feeling Bull's low moans as much as he can hear them, with sight gone those sounds go directly into his cock. Bull's hands support him until he's sitting all the way down and then they're both breathless, lips looking for each other.

Kisses turn sloppy as Dorian starts to move, wiggling his hips until he finds a good angle leaning forward a little. Bull's hand finds his cock, starting to stroke him and then he times his own movements to that, his moans to Bull's. Once in rhythm neither of them take long to reach the climax, Dorian opens his eyes just before Bull's orgasm and just the sight of Bull's pleasure, the way his jaw juts forward and mouth opens, helps him over too.

Dorian lets himself rest on Bull's lap for longer than he usually does, and it isn't until Bull has gone completely soft when he finally shifts. Bull hisses softly, his cock sliding out of Dorian, but he wraps his arms around Dorian even tighter.

"Okay?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah," Dorian murmurs. "Just give me a second…"

"I didn't mean it like that," Bull says mildly, rubbing his chin on Dorian's cheek. "You're good there."

Dorian gives in to the temptation and rests against Bull's chest for few more minutes before the ache in his chest is too painful to ignore. 

"I have to…" he says, finally pushing himself to sitting. "I have to go home."

Bull doesn't make it easy, touching Dorian's face while watching him with that damn meaningful look, but neither does he say the words Dorian wants to hear. Dorian dresses up in silence not even bothering to clean himself up, he knows within minutes he'll be standing in a hot shower washing all of this away. 

But alone in his bed, he can still feel Bull's arms around himself.

***

After his next chemo treatment Felix doesn't return to work.

Dorian could pretend, but it looks clear to him that the treatment isn't working. Felix's skin has become yellow and he's rapidly losing weight due to his complete lack of appetite. Dorian's previously successful trips to the deli are now almost always met with a little shake of the head. Dorian tempts him with figs wrapped with thinly sliced smoked Orlesian ham and Antivan style sweet honey and nut puff pastry. He tries handmade chocolates and ice cream which Felix _does_ try but then makes a disgusted face at — _ugh, not right_ — the ice cream melts away but the chocolates Dorian later takes to Bull who eats them one by one making blissful faces. After a long search Dorian finds some slightly sweet Tevinter curd cheese and fries it on the pan with spices, managing to get Felix to eat a few pieces. 

Alexius spends most of the time locked in his study and doesn't even notice when Dorian closes _Bibliopola_ in the middle of the day. Him and Felix take slow walks to the park, and maybe the conversation doesn't flow quite like it used to but Dorian still enjoys them. One day Dorian calls Bull and asks him to help to carry one of the large reclining comfy chairs from upstairs down to the shop so that Felix can keep him company. Afterwards, Bull looks around in the shop curiously, and raises his eyebrows at Alexius' closed door that hasn't opened even with all the racket they had made dragging the chair down. Dorian shakes his head a little and helps Felix to stretch out on the recliner, propping some pillows under his knees and his swollen feet.

Felix may be too exhausted to work on the website himself but he's not tired beyond giving instructions. It takes Dorian some time to figure out the program but eventually he's able to follow and continue Felix's work. He's surprised to find that it is in fact almost complete — Felix must have worked on it tirelessly before he became too ill to continue. Dorian continues the work to best of his abilities, and when Felix naps, he pauses the work to shelve books.

After one particularly long night Dorian comes home feeling worn out and miserable, and instead of the elevator his feet bring him behind Bull's door. He stands there for a long while until he knocks, anxiety heavy in his gut. Bull opens the door shirtless, and taking one look at Dorian before stepping aside so Dorian can come in. Dorian stands in the middle of the living room with his shoulders slumped, words abandoning him. He wants to go to Bull, wants comfort but _not_ sex and doesn't know how to ask for it. Then he feels Bull's heavy hands on his shoulders.

"It's okay," Bull says quietly.

He kisses top of Dorian's head gently, thumb stroking his shoulder, then other hand pulling his head to the side so he can bend down to kiss Dorian's neck. Dorian takes a deep breath in.

"Stop," he whispers, and his voice is shaking but he grabs hold of Bull's hand on his shoulder before he's had time to pull it away. "Don't go... just, not that. Not... now."

"Okay," Bull murmurs into his hair, wrapping one arm around him. "Okay. You're good."

They stand like this for minutes, Dorian isn't sure for for how long, but when his leg starts to cramp he forces himself to move.

"Thanks," he murmurs, ashamed of his outburst now. "I'm okay now. I'll go."

Bull loosens his hold a little but not entirely. "Are you sure? I don't mind." His voice almost a hum, cheek rubbing into Dorian's hair.

"It's late," Dorian swallows, but that lump in his throat won't go down.

"You could—" Bull's voice is rough, then. "You could stay."

Dorian's chest tightens. This is not "just sex", _this_ is not even sex. Yet those are the words he's been longing to hear.

"Let me—" Bull says and he too, seems to be at loss for words. "I want you to."

It is strange to go into Bull's bedroom like this, and while Dorian has never been shy before to take his clothes off here, he is now. He turns around folding them neatly and placing them in a nice little pile before quickly slipping under the covers. Bull goes to turn off the lights and stands in the darkness for few moments, probably watching him, before joining him in bed. Large hands look for Dorian and pull him closer, nestling him to Bull's side.

They both lay awake silent for a long time before falling asleep.

***

Loud knock on the door wakes them up.

Dorian sits up, momentarily confused about where he is, while Bull is already half out of the bed, pulling on shorts.

"Crap," he hisses, tossing Dorian a shirt. "Quickly, get dressed—"

Dorian frowns a little but catches the shirt, starting to pull it on. "What's the hurry…" he mutters, half insulted that Bull acts like he's about to shove Dorian into a closet so his spouse won't find out.

"Dorian, _please_ ," Bull says, his face looking pained, and then there's a second knock on the door. "Crap," he says again glancing Dorian one more time before going to the door.

"Sorry," he says opening the door half way, so that Dorian can't be seen. "I was still asleep."

"I was almost going to leave," a voice says and Dorian recognises it as Ash's. 

"Sorry," Bull says again, then he bends down. "Hey, imekari! Want to have breakfast with me?"

Dorian can see little hands reaching and the boy giggles as Bull lifts his head swinging him up. And then he sees Dorian, pointing at him with his hand.

"Dorian!" Issala says, and while it's the most positive reaction Dorian has gotten out of him yet, he can see Bull tense.

Dorian is wearing both pants and a shirt when Ash pushes past the door, but barefooted and with messy hair there can be no mistaking him for a casual visitor. Ash looks at him, from head to toe, and the disgust is clear on her face.

"Really?" she says with a sneer. "You’re a fucking a 'Vint?"

"Ash, please," Bull says and now Issala is holding him tight, his little face gone blank. "I don't want to fight."

"I was… just leaving," Dorian says, looking for his socks and shoes, throwing Bull another glance.

"I think you should," Ash says. "I don't want a 'Vint anywhere near my child."

The door is still open when Dorian gets his shoes on. He looks at Bull and he's about to say _see you later_ but the words die on his lips. Bull has positioned himself between Ash and Dorian, and he's looking gravely serious. He gives Dorian a quick nod to get out, so Dorian does, closing the door behind himself.

He goes home but can't shake the unsettled feeling left by the look on Bull's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is from Bull's point of view (in Ghost Stories series). You can find it [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5817259).


	9. On the radio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash makes a move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I've tried like you_   
>  _To do everything you wanted too_   
>  _This is the last time_   
>  _I'll take the blame for the sake of being with you_   
>  _— Linking Park, "Pushing me way"_
> 
> If you missed the previous side chapter with Bull and Cullen it's [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5817259).
> 
> Possible triggers: references to domestic abuse, false claims.

It's a beautiful early summer day and Dorian has managed to convince Felix to join in another lazy rooftop cookout. Felix takes a taxi from _Bibliopola_ — between his treatments, he's tired from the medication and the side effects, but Bull has arranged Sera to bring her hookah, and Herah has sent some medicinal herbs that Felix has agreed to try. _"It's no cure,"_ Bull had said. _"But it might make him feel better."_ — and it's enough for Dorian.

While Bull is setting up the BBQ, Sera lights up coal for the hookah, grinning a little when Issala comes to see and asks what the instrument is.

"This is for adults, kiddo," she says cheerfully. "Adults do stupid shit, like breathe in smoke. Sounds yucky, innit?"

Issala nods thoughtfully. "Why do it then?" he asks with a small frown.

"See, Felix is not feeling well," Sera says. "So this is like medicine. Maybe doesn't taste good but makes you feel better, yeah?"

"I had a tummy bug once," Issala says, with his eyes widening.

"Eww right!?" Sera says copying his face. "Okay, step back now kid, it gets a little hot. No touchy okay?"

"Okay," Issala says, and runs to Bull to help with cooking.

Dorian has helped Felix into one of the deck chairs, with his feet slightly elevated to relieve the swelling caused by his chemotherapy. 

"I've never smoked a hookah before," Felix says giving Sera a slight smile.

"Eh, nothing to it," Sera shrugs. "Just suck on this—" she wiggles the mouthpiece "—don't try to hold the smoke in your lungs too long, just breathe out. Herah said that you should feel the effects pretty quick, okay?"

"And what did she say it would do again?" Dorian asks who can't help being slightly nervous. "And what's in it? Amrita vein?"

"It's some Vashoth concoction," Sera shrugs. "It should help with pain and nausea. Doesn't hurt to try, me thinks."

"It goes without saying that my father would not approve," Felix says, smiling dryly and takes the mouthpiece. "Well, here goes then."

First breath in causes him to just cough everything out and Sera cackles. "Well now ya know what to expect," she says amicably while Dorian glares at her.

"Okay, okay," Felix says when the coughing stops. "Let's try that again..."

Second try is more successful and even though he still coughs, this time he manages to hold the smoke in for a moment.

"There ya go," Sera grins. "Hey Cullen, you want to try this too?"

Cullen, who's sitting in his wheelchair little bit off to the side, wrapped in a blanket despite the warm sun, shakes his head. "I don't think fighting one addiction with another would do anyone any favours," he grunts looking away.

Bull throws a warning glance Sera's way but she just shrugs. "Good boy," she says, kicking off her shoes and stretching on the deck chair next to Felix. 

After few more tries with the hookah Felix settles down too and Dorian listens to the hookah bubbling quietly.

"How does it feel?" Dorian asks, unable to relax. 

Felix breathes smoke out, eyes closed. "Kinda... numbing," he says after awhile. "Not unpleasant."

"Good," Dorian says and gets up, walking over to Bull to see how the cooking is going.

Bull smiles at him pleased, pulling him in by the waist. Since that night Dorian had spent at Bull's place something has changed in the big man's attitude, and he has become openly affectionate towards Dorian. It's not disagreeable to Dorian though he's still getting used to it and is surprised by it every time — even now he tenses for a second before he gives in to the touch and smiles at Bull.

"Okay?" Bull asks quietly.

Dorian nods a little. "If it makes him feel better," he says and leans in to rest his cheek against Bull's chest.

Bull hums satisfied, the sound is low and calming.

"Bull, can I turn the steaks?" Issala asks, pulling Bull's hand and Bull grins a little, letting go of Dorian.

"Sure thing, imekari," he says. "Let me pick you up—"

Bull lifts the child up and lets him use the tongs to turn the steaks over.

"Go and grab the plates, imekari," Bull says as he puts Issala back down. "And go and ask Cullen if he wants another beer."

Bull and Dorian divide the food among the plates: steaks, vegetables in skewers, boiled new potatoes with dill and fresh strawberries from the market. Issala takes the plates to everyone balancing them very carefully on two hands, and then sits down on the deck next to Cullen to eat. Even Felix sits up and tries the potatoes, and they're all enjoying their food when they are interrupted by running steps.

A stocky dwarf appears in the doorway, panting under his breath and Bull gets up putting his plate aside.

"Varric—" Bull says and Dorian can see his whole posture changing as if getting ready for a fight.

"Tiny," the dwarf breathes. "You have a problem. This is Radio Free Kirkwall with Laurentium King," he says and takes a small radio out of his pocket turning the volume louder. "I always have it on in my cab and today this came on… Listen."

It takes a few seconds for Dorian to recognise Ash's voice.

 **LK** : And you said he works for the City Guard?  
**Ash** (tearful): H-he does.  
**LK** : And you've tried making a report?  
(pause)  
**Ash** (quietly): Yes. They're— they're protecting him. I've tried reporting him several times, but they refuse to listen, and refuse to let me talk to anyone higher up. Not that it would help, he has friends high up, too.  
**LK** : But we're talking about working for the underworld, pushing drugs. And you say you have a son?  
**Ash** : Yes, he's only three years old. I was in a very vulnerable situation, you understand, and I had no one, and it s-seemed better than nothing. But I'm not only scared for me, but for him too.  
**LK** : Have you seen him hit your son?  
(pause)  
**Ash** : No, but there have been bruises. S-sometimes I don't have another option, he asks to look after my son and I have to work, he's with him right now. Please— I don't know what to do anymore, that's why I called in. You're my only hope.  
**LK** : We don't usually take anonymous calls but have made an exception here. I'm making a plea to the higher ups in the City Guard, to the Viscount. The Iron Bull has to be investigated and he to be stopped before it's too late. Corrupt city officials are protecting him, and who knows how many other violent guards, and it has to stop. We're going to take a break next, but keep your calls coming, especially if you've had problems with the City Guard—

"What the hell," Cullen says as Varric turns the radio down when the ads come on.

"It went on quite a long time before I got here," Varric says. "A great sob story about how she was tricked by Bull and who's using his position in the City Guard to run a drug cartel and all sorts of deviant stuff, she went into quite a lot of detail before Laurentium had to ask her to stop."

"Shitbag!" Sera swears. "Fucking pissface!" She stomps her foot.

"Bull, you need to run," Cullen says, face pale.

"I have a car outside," Varric says, both looking at Bull and Dorian wants to laugh at the absurdity of it.

"But it's not true!" he says incredulously. "It's not true and she can't prove any of it."

To his surprise Bull and Cullen look at each other in silence.

"Right?" Dorian says. "She can't prove any of that! Why aren't you saying anything?"

"She must have a plan," Cullen says to Bull. "She wouldn't make these claims if she didn't have a plan, you _know_ this!" He grabs Bull's arm. "You can be sure she can prove it. She's fixed some of Aveline's guards. Maybe even her. You _have_ to run."

"What does that mean?" Dorian asks but everyone ignores him. "What do you mean, fix?"

"Fuck," Bull says and stands up. "I can't run, I can't leave imekari… with her."

He looks at Issala who's sitting on the deck, staring at the radio. The silence is cut off by Bull's mobile phone ringing and he fishes it from his pocket, checking the display before bringing it to his ear.

"We heard," he says to the phone. "Is she coming?" Bull is quiet for a few seconds. "I can't," he says. "Just stay there, find out what you can about what kind of evidence she has rigged."

He hangs up, holding the phone in his hand, clearly in deep thought.

"Bull?" Dorian asks, panic clutching his chest.

"It was Krem," Bull says slowly. "Aveline is on her way. They're forcing her hand, she's been ordered to take me in. Apparently this has really been a kick in the ants' nest in the Viscount's office and heads are going to start rolling. _Mine_ seems to be the favourite candidate with the Viscount."

Bull turns to Dorian, taking him by the shoulders, looking at him very seriously. 

"It's not true, any of it," he says firmly. "No matter what Ash says. No matter _anyone_ says."

"She's paying people to say you did it?" Dorian asks. "But Issala would never say you've hit him!"

Bull licks his lips, swallowing, and Dorian doesn't like how resigned he looks. 

"No matter what _anyone_ says," Bull repeats. "Keep your head cool, and I'll explain everything when I get out. Or Cullen will, if I don't."

"Alright," Dorian breathes, looking up at him. "Alright, I believe you."

They don't have to wait for long before a tall red-haired woman with a serious face arrives, flanked by two men in City Guard uniforms.

"I trust Krem called you," the woman says. "I'm sorry Bull, I have no choice. You have to come with me."

"I know," Bull says.

"And Issala too," the woman adds and looks apologetic. 

"He can stay with me," Cullen says quickly, wheeling closer. "Aveline, you don't have to take the kid. He's scared already."

"I'm sorry, Cullen," Aveline replies. "I can't leave him with you, because of what Ash said. I know it's a shit show but I'm sure we can prove Bull's innocence." 

"Shitballs, Ave," Sera growls and Bull has to hold her back. "He's just a kid! Let him be!"

"Sera—" Aveline says with a warning tone.

"Then I'm coming with you," Cullen interrupts her. "Just to stay with the kiddo. I'll get my cane, I won't get it the way."

Aveline seems to consider the suggestion for few moments and then gives an unprotesting shrug. "Well, what the hell. It's not like any of us would be good babysitters anyway."

Cullen breathes out, relieved. "Hey kiddo, let's go and fetch my cane and then we'll go for a ride in the City Guard car," he says down to Issala.

"Cullen I know they're arresting Bull because of what Ash said on the radio," Issala says mournfully getting up, and Aveline grunts.

"He was always a smart cookie, wasn't he? When the hell did he grow so big?" she murmurs and then turns to Bull. "Sorry but I have to cuff you," she sighs. "Protocol. You know."

Bull nods and gives her his wrists without a word.

"Ave—" Sera starts angrily, but Bull interrupts her.

"Sera, it's fine. Maybe you can find out what the word on the street is about Ash, what she's up to," he says. "Someone must know something useful. Go. I'll be fine."

Sera growls but takes a step back, hands still curled in fists. Aveline takes the cuffs off her belt and snaps them on Bull, barely getting them closed around his thick wrists.

"Lead the way, then," Bull says to Aveline, and gives Dorian one more glance. "Keep your head cool. Get Felix home."

"I will," Dorian says as the cold helplessness washes over him. "Let me know… if I can do anything."

He sits down next to Felix and it's only then when the adrenaline hits him and he starts to shake.

"He didn't do it, of course he didn't," Felix says softly. "They'll figure something out."

Dorian wishes he could share his friend's optimism, but there's clearly something going on he's not privy to. 

"Come on," he says aloud. "Let's get you home."

***

Taxi trip later they arrive at _Bibliopola_ and Dorian helps Felix upstairs. Whatever was in Herah's Vashoth concoction seems to have done some good at least, and Felix asks for food — Dorian makes him a sandwich that gets half eaten, but it's still more than what Felix has eaten in days. They sit in the living room for awhile talking but Dorian's thoughts keep going to Bull and he's relieved when Felix retires to his room for a nap.

Dorian takes the stairs down and just when he's reached the shop, the bell on top of the door rings and he curses at himself for forgetting to lock the door. 

"I'm sorry, we're closed—" Dorian starts, and then he recognises who it is.

"Hello Dorian," Ash says, closing the door behind her. "We need to talk about the Iron Bull."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading order: go to [Visits](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5939437) to see Bull in prison.


	10. How much my heart depends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian has doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Love, I have wounds,  
>  Only you can mend,  
> You can mend.  
> I guess that's love,  
> I can't pretend,  
> I can't pretend.  
> —Tom Odell, "Can't pretend"_
> 
> Please read the side chapter [Visits](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5939437) if you haven't already. There are also some important notes on that chapter if you haven't read them yet.

`Dorian: I'm so ashamed now.`  
`Dorian: If it wasn't for Felix I'd be on a plane back home right now.`  
`Rilienus: Why, what happened?`  
`Dorian: Turns out this jerk I was fucking is a total asshole.`  
`Rilienus: You mean Bull?`  
`Dorian: Turns out he was in the habit of selling drugs on the side.`  
`Rilienus: Holy shit. `  
`Rilienus: You said he was a nice guy. Too nice, I recall you complaining.`  
`Dorian: I guess I was wrong.`  


Dorian pushes the phone away from himself watching it slide on the table, and rubs his temples because thinking about the whole thing is giving him a headache. The phone buzzes again but he doesn't pick it up, he's really not interested in talking about the subject with Rilienus, or anyone. Dorian closes his eyes, sighing, and then his stomach grumbles — half eaten lunch is what he's had today and looking outside it's already getting dark. Reluctantly Dorian gets up and decides to go for take-out, hesitating at Cullen's door.

"Cullen?" he asks, knocking on the door softly. "Are you hungry? I'm getting some dinner, I could bring you some."

There's no answer and Dorian isn't sure if it's because Cullen isn't home yet or just not reacting. He tries the same thing coming back and gets the same answer — though this time Dorian is pretty sure Cullen _is_ inside as he hears some movement. But he doesn't press on it, just goes home and sits in the darkness of his living room eating Rivaini curry straight from the take-out container.

Later at night, Dorian wakes up to Cullen screaming and out of habit he's half way dialling Bull's number before the previous' day's events hit the air out of his lungs. Bull had probably been supplying Cullen with lyrium all along, someone had said, and Dorian buries his head under the pillows trying to block out the horrible sound. Eventually he can hear Evelyn knocking on Cullen's door and calling him, and when Cullen doesn't answer, unlocking the door and going in. Screaming turns into sobs and eventually quietens completely but Dorian can't sleep anymore.

The headache from before is back and Dorian tosses in bed for half an hour before he gets up and goes to the kitchen to make some tea. He's pours the last of the Tevinter tea he has into a little pot and sets the kettle to boil, while waiting he picks up a discarded shirt and because he's cold he starts pulling it on — he's hit with Bull's smell on it. For a second he breathes the smell in and it wraps around him almost like Bull's arms would until Dorian forces himself to breathe out and drop the shirt like it's burning his fingers. He stands there in the darkness trying not to cry until the kettle boils which almost startles Dorian, and he has to force himself to move.

Neither tea nor daylight brings him any comfort.

On his way to work Dorian stops at Cullen's door again but everything is silent now and he doesn't knock. He didn't hear Evelyn leave so he assumes she's still there and Dorian can't help but to wonder if she had known about Bull.

"So?" Felix asks first thing when Dorian comes to work.

"So what?" Dorian asks frowning.

"So, have you heard from Bull? Did you talk to Cullen?" Felix asks.

"No and no," Dorian says still frowning. "I don't want to talk about Bull, and Cullen had a bad night which means I've had a bad night," he says and leans down pick up the newspapers from the floor.

Felix is silent for a second, looking quite taken aback.

"What's wrong?" he asks, then.

"Nothing," Dorian says and sighs annoyed. "Everything. How could I have known? I feel like such an idiot."

"Known what?" Felix asks.

"That he—" Dorian swallows closes his eyes. "Look, I have a massive headache and I really don't want to talk about this."

Felix is silent again and this time he lets it go. Dorian catches Felix watching him several times during the day but he respects Dorian’s wishes and doesn’t ask any more questions.

As if the day hadn’t been long enough, Dorian finds Evelyn at his door when he comes home. Dorian steps out of the elevator balancing groceries in one hand and digging out keys from his pocket with the other, and Evelyn looks up.

“Hey,” Dorian says and she steps out of the way to let him to his door.

“I was just checking if you were home,” Evelyn says. “I was going to see Bull tomorrow morning, I thought you might want to come along.”

Dorian only just manages to stop a sneer. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says opening his door. “I’m sorry, I’ve had a long day,” he adds stepping inside and turning to look at her. “Good night, Evelyn.”

He presses the door closed, leaning heavily on it, his bag of groceries falling on the floor. Tears are burning hot somewhere in his throat and the headache is worse than ever, pounding at his temples. Dorian slides down to the floor, back still against the door, holding his head between his hands and groans in pain and frustration. 

Sleep does not come easy that night.

Next morning is hot and muggy and the weather doesn’t improve Dorian’s mood. He knocks on Cullen’s door on his way out but gets no response – night had been quiet at least, but this has been the worst Dorian’s seen Cullen since he moved in. Dorian’s headache continues throughout the day despite the painkillers he’s taking and when there are no customers he takes a nap on the chair they had set up for Felix. 

Dorian steps out for a late lunch, but when he comes back to _Bibliopola_ he finds Krem sitting on the steps, waiting for him. The man is wearing his City Guard uniform meaning he must be on his lunch break too.

“Pavus,” Krem nods, getting up.

Dorian squints at him but nods a greeting.

“Can we talk?” Krem asks, taking a few steps behind Dorian as he opens the door.

“Why the fuck does everyone want to talk to me suddenly?” Dorian snaps as goes in. “Let me guess, you _too_ want to talk about Bull.”

“Well, Chief is in a bit of a pickle,” Krem admits. “Just wanted me to check that everything was alright with you.”

“Well you can tell him that everything is fine and he needn’t bother anymore,” Dorian says and tries to shut the door on Krem’s face, but the man is quicker than that and his boot prevents Dorian from closing the door.

“Can I come in?” Krem asks, looking at him seriously.

Dorian hisses in frustration and then sighs heavily – but nods eventually, easing the door open and letting Krem in. Krem enters the shop, looking around with a half smirk.

“Brings back some memories,” he says grinning a little. “I had forgotten this smell… old books and magic.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Dorian says dryly, turning his back to the man and starting to aggressively organise books on the closest shelf.

“Dorian,” Krem says. “Did Ash come and see you?”

Dorian freezes in place, his thoughts scattering as time seems to stands still.

“Dorian?” Krem asks again and his voice sounds like it’s coming from bottom of a well. And then: “Shit!”

Dorian doesn’t realise he’s falling except suddenly the shelves disappear from his view replaced by the carpet. Krem catches him just in time to prevent him from hitting his head but the impact still knocks the air out of Dorian’s lungs.

“I take that as a yes,” Krem murmurs under his breath. “You okay? Need a glass of water or something?”

“What happened?” Dorian asks, struggling to sit up.

“Ash,” Krem says grimly. “That’s what happened.”

Dorian has of course heard of the re-educators, it's one of those things Tevinter mothers scare their children with. Later the stories are repeated in the Circles in outraged whispers as proof of how barbaric the Qunari are. The truth, Dorian always thought, was probably something far more mundane and boring, and Krem's story seems quite fantastical.

Yet, sitting down with Krem and Felix, there are things that he can't explain. Dorian remembers how he felt when Bull was taken away, yet by the evening he was already feeling very different. It doesn't help that when he tries to think about events that afternoon his headache worsens and Krem explains that it's probably due to safeguards Ash has put into place to prevent him from thinking about his meeting with her.

"Preposterous," Dorian says after the second time Krem has explained what Ash can do. "I would _know_. If she really had been able to implant these false memories in my mind without my knowledge, I would recognise them, especially now that you’re telling me about it."

Krem shakes his head. "That's the thing — once the false memory exists, it's indistinguishable from real memories. Even if you know which ones are real and which ones are false, they will still _feel_ the same."

"It's possible," Felix says slowly. He looks tired and Dorian stands up abruptly, trying to indicate to Krem that the visit is over but Krem just sits there, watching him.

"Well thank you for telling me all this," Dorian says stiffly. "I will certainly consider it."

"Chief will talk to you more when he gets out," Krem says and finally gets up. "Bail hearing is set for tomorrow."

Dorian nods a little, the thought of seeing Bull makes both his heart hurt and his stomach lurch and he doesn't know how to interpret his feelings anymore. Krem bids them goodbye and Dorian sits back down.

"I don't know," he says quietly. "I don't see how it could be true."

"It must be hard, not being able to trust your feelings," Felix says and touches Dorian's hand gently. "But I know one thing, because I've seen you with him. I've seen how you look at him. And to me it's obvious, obvious that those were your real feelings and not this—" he waves at Dorian, "—whatever you're feeling now. You don't… seem like yourself."

"I don't feel like me," Dorian breathes, giving Felix's hand a quick squeeze. “But what if… those feelings were real, but only because I was fooled. That it's all true and he fooled me, fooled… us?”

“Could you really have changed your opinion about him, during that afternoon you can’t really think about?” Felix asks gently.

Dorian breathes out and rubs his templates again, trying to relieve the crushing headache, throbbing pain is so strong he can feel the blood pounding in his ears.

“Maybe,” he says and pauses. "But probably not."

***

Krem is right, and Bull is back the next evening. 

Their first meeting is cautious, Dorian staring at the floor and Bull standing at his door, his presence familiar yet all new feelings are churning Dorian’s gut.

“It’s my fault, what happened to you,” Bull says in a low voice, without trying to touch him. “I’m sorry Dorian, I’m _so_ sorry. I should have told you about her earlier, but I was… I was a fool and thought I could keep you out of it. And now you’re in… even if you don’t want to have anything to do with me, and I understand if you don’t, you’re mixed in it.”

Dorian says nothing, and can’t bring himself to look at Bull. He can hear Bull sigh and his fingers twitch a little.

“I’ll answer any questions you have,” he says quietly and his voice is clipped with what Dorian can only guess is emotion. “I won’t hold back anything, not anymore. But please, I need you to cooperate for a little bit longer, because I need to protect you. Will you let me? Will you talk to me?”

Dorian finally forces himself to look up. Bull looks like he’s in pain, his brow furrowed and his mouth opens a little when Dorian looks at him, quirking unhappily.

“Alright,” Dorian says, his heart beats so fast and loud it feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest. “What do you want to say?”

Bull breathes out and his hand hovers for a second like he wants to touch Dorian but doesn’t.

“We need to get the gang and sit down,” Bull says seriously. “We have plans to make.”

But life – it doesn’t always follow the plans.


	11. Everglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last days of Felix Alexius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _What I wouldn't give for just a moment to hold_   
>  _Yeah, I live for this feeling, this everglow_   
>  _So if you love someone, you should let them know_   
>  _Oh, the light that you left me will everglow_   
>  _—Coldplay, “Everglow”_
> 
> Trigger warnings: cancer, cancer treatment and ultimately death. 
> 
> This is not an etherial Hollywood cancer and I make no apologies for it. If it hits too close to home or you're feeling fragile for other reasons, please skip this chapter and come back to it when you're able. Plotting against Ash will continue in the next chapter.

Eventually Alexius gets too wrapped up with his books looking for the elusive cure and stops coming out of his study entirely. 

So Dorian starts going to the chemo with Felix. He sits there as they put the needle into the port on Felix’s arm and put the drip on. He holds Felix’s hand as his friend closes his eyes listening to the humming of the machines in the room and Felix’s steady breathing. 

He’s there when the doctor advises them to stop the treatment that is not working and start looking at alternatives. The doctor is a pale, thin, nervous looking man who doesn’t properly look either of them in the eyes and while Felix is quiet, Dorian frowns in anger.

“What do you mean, alternatives? Magic doesn’t work, that was the first thing we tried,” he says but even his raised voice doesn’t get the doctor to look at him.

“Dorian—“ Felix says quietly. “He means finding a hospice. A place to die.”

“Hospice?” Dorian says and he feels sick, daring the doctor to look at him, but in vain. “That’s it? You’re just going to stop trying and wash your hands of this and send him off to die?”

“Dorian—“ Felix says again smiling weakly. “It’s fine, we’ve discussed this before. I knew it was coming.” 

Why is it that people feel the need to smile when delivering bad news, Dorian wonders dazed while looking at Felix. He remembers the times Felix wanted to talk about his illness and he feels ashamed for not listening, for not making it easier for him but instead rushing to offer optimistic advice. Yet deep down Dorian has known this too – only his way of dealing with it had been to put it aside and not think about it. But it’s here now.

“Hospice? You want that?” Dorian asks with tears burning behind his eyes taking Felix’s hand, feeling so acutely now how thin it is, just leathery skin stretched over bones.

“No,” Felix says and this time he doesn’t offer a smile. “I want to go home.”

***

Stairs have been a struggle for Felix for a while now, and Dorian finally starts to see all the little details that he’s been counting off has temporary issues. How unsteady Felix is on his feet, how his absent moments have become more and more frequent and how still he lays when sleeping.

It is the start of Ferventis and summer has finally arrived. Nights are dark but warm, yet Felix sleeps with several blankets. Dorian spends most of his time with Felix, not exactly avoiding Bull at the apartment but not at ease being alone with him either. There are daily texts, and then a request. 

“Bull suggest we should go for a barbecue tonight. He says there will be fireworks,” Dorian says one afternoon. “Krem said he could pick us up in his truck. And Bull could carry you, if you don’t feel like walking.”

“One last time,” Felix says.

***

Swallows are dancing in the air as the sun is setting and Felix seems to be watching the birds, wrapped up in several blankets, laying as comfortable as he can be on a deck chair. Cullen sits next to him in his wheelchair, equally wrapped up. Since Bull came back Cullen has been quiet and withdrawn but he has made an effort to be there tonight, just like Sera and Herah who are quietly sitting one chair over on the other side of Felix. 

Herah has made some kind of Vashoth tea, brewed in a small gourd and drank with a long straw that she passes to everyone. Felix declines but everyone else, even Cullen, take a sip when offered – Dorian quite likes it, the tea has an herb-like earthy taste and he holds the gourd for a moment, feeling the smooth surface underneath his palms.

“To share with friends,” Herah says. “Memories.”

Dorian sits down on his own deck chair that he’s pushed right next to Felix's so that they're touching, moving closer to his friend.

“Hey,” he says, leaning a forehead gently against Felix’s cheek. “Fireworks are going to start soon.”

Felix doesn’t say anything at first and then: “Will mother come?”

“No,” Dorian says softly. “She won’t. She’s dead, remember?”

“Oh I know that,” Felix says then and Dorian feels him shake his head a touch. “What was I thinking?”

The last of the swallows are still reaching for the sky when the fireworks start and the booms echoing between the buildings are so loud no conversation is possible for a while. Dorian leans into Felix and watches the colours spread against the blackness, in reds, greens and gold. Then he feels Bull on his other side, his weight dipping the chair a bit, his hand touching Dorian’s back lightly. Looking at him is still hard but this feels good, safe, and Dorian interlaces his fingers with Bull’s, inviting him closer. Bull moves in, side against Dorian’s back, hand loosely round him and Dorian closes his eyes, the fireworks still drawn against his eyelids.

“Memories,” he hears Herah say again, and then the gourd is pressed into his hands once more.

Dorian drinks the warm tea in the warm night watching the fireworks, surrounded by people he loves and it is a good memory to have. 

Afterwards Sera fires up the hookah again, offering a hose to Felix. Felix takes it but both holding the hose and breathing in deep are hard for him, and he drops the mouthpiece after a few tries.

"Let me," Dorian says and takes the hose, sucking in smoke.

Then Dorian leans in, locking lips with Felix, blowing the smoke gently into his mouth. Felix’s lips are cool and dry and he licks them after Dorian pulls away, blowing the smoke out. 

“Alright?” Dorian asks quietly, and he feels Bull’s hand on his waist, fingers stroking his side.

Felix pauses and nods. Dorian briefly leans behind him into Bull, taking another puff from the hookah before leaning back to Felix blowing more smoke into his mouth. Time seems to lose meaning and later Dorian doesn't remember how long they sit there, only that it makes Felix's face relax in a way Dorian hasn't seen for a long time. 

After the hookah has been put away Bull leans an arm over Dorian and around Felix, holding both of them closer to himself. Dorian's eyes are open and he watches the stars, naming the constellations silently in his head the way his father taught them, and feels Bull's heartbeat strong and calming against his back. Slowly Dorian's shoulder is becoming wet and he realises that Bull is crying behind him tears flowing silently, and Dorian wishes for the hundredth time that he could do the same.

***

The next day Felix lays down and doesn't get up anymore.

"Maybe I'll die today," he says, eyes open but not looking at anything and Dorian's heart feels like it's frozen to the core and the slightest movement might shatter it.

Felix doesn't die that day, nor the next.

Dorian moves in and sleeps on the sofa in the Alexius' living room. In the morning he knows Felix's father has been upstairs because someone has made a sandwich in the kitchen but that's the only sign of life Dorian has seen from the man in weeks. 

Dorian sits with Felix, often in silence, but sometimes reading or talking. Felix often doesn't seem to listen or even hear, but an hour later he can make a comment on something Dorian had said earlier. Food is out of the question, and Felix has trouble even swallowing his pills, but Dorian gives him chips of ice that Felix sucks on. His skin is paper thin on top of bones, face sunken into a skull with dark eyes and lips thinly stretching over teeth. Yet his lower body and legs are swollen and filled with fluid, skin at places patchy and red, but Felix is too weak even to scratch. 

Dorian takes care of him, eases his pain to best of his abilities, cleans him up and keeps talking kindly even when he has to force the words out that are stuck in his throat. At night he lays awake listening to Felix’s uneven breathing, at times it seems to stop and Dorian sits up in alarm only to hear Felix draw breath again. 

Sometime between midnight and sunrise Dorian calls Bull – the call is answered immediately as if Bull had been waiting for it.

Bull arrives half an hour later, and his presence seems to dwarf everything else in the living room. Dorian melts into him in the darkness, praying for tears again but still none come – Bull holds him, silently, petting his hair. Dorian wants to find words to explain that he couldn’t bear it alone anymore, couldn’t bear the responsibility, but words fail him, and yet somehow Bull seems to understand. 

“You get some sleep,” Bull whispers quietly. “I’ll sit with him.”

In the end Dorian sleeps downstairs in short bursts, curled up on the chair that smells like Felix. In the morning he climbs back up the stairs, and finds Bull in the kitchen making tea. Before he can think Dorian leans up for a kiss, and Bull hesitates only for a fraction of a second before he responds, his lips wonderfully warm and alive against Dorian’s. For few moments Dorian doesn’t think of anything, just breathes and then the fears surface again and he leans away, turning his face. Bull doesn’t try to chase him, just hands him a cup of tea.

“Night went well,” he says softly, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Go see him.”

Dorian nods and takes his teacup into Felix’s bedroom. Felix’s eyes are open a touch and he seems to track Dorian entering.

“Bull was here,” Felix says and his voice is rough and dry. “Did that happen?”

“Yeah, he’s here,” Dorian says and puts his cup on the windowsill, sitting next to Felix and taking his hand.

“Don’t let him go,” Felix says looking Dorian in the eyes — for that moment he’s present and his eyes are almost like the old Felix Dorian knew.

“I won’t,” Dorian breathes because if he says something louder than this his voice will crack. “We’re good together.”

Felix closes his eyes and his breathing is loud and uneven. Dorian sits there holding his cool skeletal hand, even when he thinks Felix has fallen asleep. But then Felix speaks again, eyes still closed.

“I can’t,” he says simply, and they are the last words of Felix Alexius.

Bull and Dorian take turns to sit with Felix. Sometimes his eyes are open but mostly not. His breathing has turned into noisy gurgling, a side effect from him being unable to swallow or cough and they turn him on his side to help him breathe easier. Dorian wipes Felix’s mouth with a moist towel and talks to him. And when Bull sits with him Dorian can hear him talking too, low rumble of his voice barely audible.

Dorian goes to Alexius’ door pleading him to come and see Felix, pressing his mouth to the crack of the door, but even though he can hear movement inside the door doesn’t open. Dorian sits on the floor with his back against the door for a long time but Alexius doesn't come out.

At night they take turns, but it is Bull that hears Felix’s last breaths. 

He comes to wake up Dorian by petting his hair gently, kissing his temple. Dorian opens his eyes and even in the darkness he can read Bull’s expression. 

“No,” Dorian whispers and closes his eyes, tears sting somewhere in his throat but his eyes are dry.

“Come and see him,” Bull murmurs quietly. “It’s alright.”

Dorian lets Bull pull him up and follows him to Felix’s bedroom. Dorian touches Felix’s cooling face and sits there until the dawn. In the morning the coroner Bull had called comes for the body. 

Even after the bedroom is empty Dorian sits there until Bull gently coaxes him up and takes him home. Cullen is waiting for them in front of their building, frowning, but looking almost relieved when Dorian steps out of the taxi. Cullen opens his mouth as if to say something but then decides against it, just patting Dorian on the shoulder as he walks past and then following them in.

"You should get some sleep," Bull says gently as they get into Bull's apartment. "You haven't slept much in the past week."

Dorian shakes his head, his body feels so light that he might float away any second. Only Bull's touch on his arms brings him back and he when he closes his eyes it feels like the room is spinning. 

"Alright," Dorian says and his voice sounds small and pathetic. 

In the bedroom Bull undresses Dorian and tucks him under the covers before following him, wrapping an arm around Dorian. Then the mattress shifts and it takes a moment for Dorian to realise that Cullen has joined them on Dorian's other side — little hesitant at first but when Dorian nods Cullen too wraps an arm around him. 

"I know," Cullen murmurs quietly. 

Dorian sinks into the feeling of warm bodies and steady breathing, and finally his tears start flowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ferventis = Tevene name for 6th month of the Thedosian calendar


	12. Not to look back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans need to be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Oh, but I'm scared to death_   
>  _That there may not be another one like this_   
>  _And I confess that I'm only holding on by a thin thin thread_   
>  _—Maroon 5, "Sad"_
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments in the previous chapter, and all the comments always. You're the reason this story exists.

Dorian wakes up briefly in the evening and Bull makes him eat a sandwich. The texture of the crunchy crust, with pungent, buttery cheese and taste of sweet ham bring him out of his numb torpor for a moment, then the kitchen lights seem too bright and Dorian closes his eyes again. Bull doesn’t say anything but when Dorian has finished the sandwich he takes Dorian back to bed.

Dorian sleeps uninterrupted through the night.

When he wakes up, it’s morning again and the bed is empty. It smells of both Bull and Cullen but Dorian doesn’t remember either of them sleeping in it last night — but then again he hardly remembers falling asleep. When Dorian sits up everything hurts, that deep ache you get when you haven’t moved your muscles for a long time, so he stretches, a luxurious long stretch letting out a satisfied grunt. Then he hears movement from the living room and Cullen rolls to the bedroom door.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, and if he feels any of the intimacy from previous day there’s not a trace of it in his voice.

“Aching,” Dorian says avoiding the real answer.

How does one feel when part of your heart, part of your core has been torn out? _Aching_ is not a lie, either, he is _aching_ inside and out. Cullen looks away, clearly not interested in intruding and it suits them both.

“Where’s Bull?” Dorian asks, getting up slowly, still stretching.

“He went out,” Cullen says. “Said he would talk to you later.”

“Is there a date for the trial yet?” Dorian forces out the words because he needs to know, even if he doesn’t want to hear the answer.

“No,” Cullen says and his brows are furrowing. “Apparently they’re having problems locating some of the witnesses.”

“Did Bull—“ Dorian looks at him sharply.

“No. No, of course not,” Cullen says angrily. “It’s Ash, obviously. She’s playing something and Bull says he’s going to talk to us about it but you need to hear it too.”

Dorian lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples. Headache isn’t as bad as it was but it still comes and goes.

“I can’t—“ he says quietly. “I can’t deal with this now. I have to go and talk to Alexius.”

“I understand,” Cullen says quietly. “If you want me to come with you—“

Dorian glances at Cullen, he can see the tension in his shoulders, but the offer is genuine. Dorian’s logical mind immediately thinks of all the stairs in the Alexius’ apartment, and the “smell of magic” in the shop as Krem had called it. 

“Thank you,” he says simply because telling Cullen either of those things wouldn’t be helpful. “I appreciate it. But I think it’s better if I go alone.”

***

 _Bibliopola_ looks like it always did, with one exception: the door to Alexius’ study is open.

Dorian climbs the stairs up slowly, and finds Alexius on his knees in Felix’s bedroom, his forehead against the mattress. Dorian walks to the other side of the bed and sits down. Someone had made the bed, probably Bull because Dorian doesn’t remember doing it — and it looks so wrong, flat and smooth and empty like that. Even the pillow has been fluffed and Dorian touches it gently, as if it would be possible to feel warmth from Felix’s head against it.

“Did he ask about me?” Alexius asks, muffled.

“No,” Dorian say softly. “Because he understood.”

Alexius’ laugh is hollow and feels out of place.

“Am I supposed to take comfort in that?” the man asks, without lifting his head.

“Isn’t that just him?” Dorian whispers. “He needed you, but _understood_ so he didn’t ask. Because if he had—“ he draws breath. “He knew I’d broken down that fucking door to get you out of there.”

The words hang between them for a long moment. 

“You have to understand, I did it for him,” Alexius says, his shoulders starting to shake. For one horrible moment Dorian thinks he’s _laughing_ before he hears the sobs. “My sweet little boy—“

Dorian says nothing. Somewhere in the back of his head he knows he should offer kind words to a grieving man who has just lost his son, but he hardly has the strength to keep himself together.

“We have to discuss the funeral,” Dorian says instead.

***

Felix's funeral is two days later.

Rilienus offers to fly in to be with Dorian, as does Dorian’s mother. Dorian thanks them both as he declines the offers – Aquinea sends flowers as per protocol, horribly gaudy gilded Tevinter crypt lilies and their sickly sweet smell is inescapable in the small chapel.

It’s a small affair, like Felix would have wanted. Imperial Chantry though is Alexius’ choice, and the Tevinter church has exactly one chapel in Kirkwall, attached to a mixed religion graveyard. They follow the brother carrying Felix’s urn on a gravel path; Alexius first, then Dorian followed by Bull, Cullen and Sera. Alexius’ eyes had widened a little bit seeing the ragtag crowd, but only explanation Dorian had offered was “Felix’s friends” and Alexius had said nothing.

Alexius himself seems to be lost in thought, just watching with a blank expression as the urn is lowered into a hole in the ground. Dorian wonders what he himself would look like to an outsider, heavy dark suit making him sweat in the inappropriately beautiful weather, slippery hands clutched together in front of him. His mother would have shed tears, the suitable amount to seem sympathetic but not too many to seem hysterical, and Dorian knows she would have done it regardless of the fact that no one present neither expects or requires such a display. His own tears have dried again – whatever is in that small urn has nothing to do with Felix anymore, it’s just a formality, and it’s quickly over. 

Back at the chapel Alexius seems almost cheerful— no, that’s not the right word. _The right word_ , Dorian thinks, _is maniacal_.

“My dear boy,” he says turning to Dorian. “I thank you for all you’ve done for my family.”

 _I didn’t do it for you, I did it for Felix,_ Dorian thinks but he says nothing just nodding lightly.

“I’m afraid I’ll be closing the shop for a while,” Alexius continues not waiting for Dorian to speak. “I’m going back to Tevinter, I have managed to acquire new contacts… that can help me with my research.”

“Your research?” Dorian asks and doesn't hide his frown.

“Yes, you see I’ve been studying temporal magic,” Alexius says and smiles, his eyes gleaming. 

“Stop,” Dorian says and his voice rings hollow in his ears, like hearing someone else speak. “Stop. Please, Gereon. He’s _gone_.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alexius says but his lip quivers a touch as he waves with his hand. “He’s dead now, but in the past— Dorian, I can _save_ him. “

“No,” Dorian says, his chest feels heavy and breathing is difficult. “You know just as well as I that the _cost_ of such a ritual, if even possible—“ he swallows hard. “Felix would never, _ever_ , want it.”

Alexius doesn't answer, just smiles that same unsettling smile, his gaze focused somewhere else. 

"Dorian, we should go," Bull says, his hand heavy on Dorian's shoulder. He's probably heard the whole conversation and can see from Dorian's tense shoulders that he's close to doing something he'd regret later.

"I want to thank you again for coming," Alexius says and smiles, looking at Dorian.

Bull leads Dorian away, and Dorian hopes he'll never see Gereon Alexius again.

***

They end up back at Bull's place where Krem is waiting for them, fresh off work. Everyone is still dressed in their uncomfortable funeral clothes and no one is in the mood for the rooftop. Bull does his own brand of magic and comes up with food for five people and they eat in silence until Bull pushes his plate away from himself.

“I made a deal with Ash,” Bull says and suddenly everyone sits up in attention.

“You did what now?” Sera asks the question before anyone else has the chance to.

“For this to be possible,” Bull says gesturing the room. “For me to be able to protect any of you, to have a chance at any kind of retaliation, I had to be out. She could have prevented it. So when she came to see me, I made a deal with her.” The room is quiet. “And I know what you’re thinking, but I’ve double checked it with Cullen against my notes, I have made the deal out of my free will.”

“What’s the deal, Chief?” Krem asks slowly, putting down his sandwich.

Dorian can see Cullen looking at his hands, not at Bull, not at him. Bull licks his lips and takes a deep breath.

“Listen to me first before you say anything,” he says and glances at Dorian.

Dorian nods, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

“I made a deal that for my freedom, for the charges to be dropped, I would deliver Dorian to Ash.”

If the room had been quiet before it’s dead silent now. Dorian pushes his chair away and stands up slowly.

“Please,” Bull says, his hand moving as if to reach for Dorian but he stops himself. “I won’t honour the deal. I won't. That’s why we’re all here now. That’s why I’m telling you this, because I trust you, all of you. I can't do this by myself and need your help.”

Dorian’s heart is trying to beat out of his chest and he stares at Bull.

"Anything you need," Krem says.

"If it's to kick her ass, any day," Sera says. And then: “So, we’re gonna kill her, right?” she adds, lifting her feet on the table, the only one in the room who seems to be able to relax.

“No,” Bull says sharply. “No killing.”

“Why not?” Sera asks frowning. “She’s doubly deserved it. Triply. Qud— many times over.”

“No killing,” Bull says again. “I didn’t leave Seheron to kill more people, I've killed enough people in my life, and no matter she has done, she is imekari’s mother. If we can avoid it, we will.”

Dorian sees how Krem looks at Bull, it doesn’t seem to come as a surprise for him. The young man nods in approval. Cullen is still staring at his hands.

"I'm not going to lie to you, it's more complicated that way," Bull says and sits down. "She is likely to keep imekari close, and we need them separated without alerting her or scaring him. She has some kind of…" he hesitates, looking at Dorian again. "She has some kind of power word over me, something that she has implanted that will allow her under certain conditions to pacify me. She might have one for Issala. She might have one for Dorian."

"A power word?" Dorian asks quietly.

"It's a re-educator thing," Bull says and sighs. "When they interrogate people for the first time opening up their mind can take time, so, from what I understand they can set up a power word that allows them later to get back to that open state without starting from the beginning. I'm afraid I gave the opportunity to her, first time she did it it was with my permission. I believed she was going to help me."

"And me?" Dorian asks, he's sitting down but he's sitting straight backed on the edge of his chair.

"No way of knowing," Bull says. "I don't know how much time she had, if she would have been able to do it. And I'm afraid I don't know what she's done with imekari."

"Is there anything you can do?" Dorian asks. "How… how does it work? She says one word and you just… do her bidding?"

"It's not exactly like that," Bull says. "I believe if I'm concentrating, avoiding looking at her, I can avoid that. And I won't let her anywhere near you."

Dorian says nothing, not exactly comforted by that.

"Arse," Sera says when it's clear Dorian isn't going to ask anything more. "So. No killing, how about punching?"

"If I believed that would be effective, sure," Bull says. "But even though she's not a violent person, she is more than capable of it. She's been through Ben-Hassrath training and is quite lethal."

"You ain't making things simple, that's for sure," Sera grunts in frustration. "Can't thump her, can't kill her. Have to get her to shut the fuck up, without scaring the kid. What can we do?"

Bull's mouth is a tight line. "That's why we're here," he says and then no one says anything for awhile.

“I don’t know why I have to be the one to say this,” Cullen says to break the silence. He’s speaking for the first time the whole evening. “To me, the answer is obvious. We use Dorian. We use magic.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, we're almost there. Two more chapters and the epilogue.


	13. Sabotage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting with Ash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I can't stand it I know you planned it_   
>  _I'm gonna set it straight, this watergate_   
>  _I can't stand rocking when I'm in here_   
>  _Because your crystal ball ain't so crystal clear_   
>  _So while you sit back and wonder why_   
>  _I got this fucking thorn in my side_   
>  _Oh my God, it's a mirage_   
>  _I'm tellin' y'all it's sabotage_   
>  _—The Beastie Boys, Sabotage_
> 
> Words, don't come easy to me. Thanks to Dichotomous_Dragon who nudged me and jump-started them.

Bull's answer to Cullen's plan is categorically "no". 

Now Dorian is quiet and Cullen talks, and by the sounds of it he's planned it all out with great care. For the first time Dorian gets a glimpse of what Cullen probably had been like before his fall from grace, analytical, tactical, and undeniably brilliant. Even Bull can't deny that Cullen's plan is the only one with any conceivable chance of success – the only problem is that it puts Dorian right in the middle of it which is exactly what Bull wants to avoid.

That is what it comes down to in the end, and Bull grunts frustrated and refuses to look at Dorian. Cullen however has no such inhibitions, staring intensely at him. His eyes look clear for the first time in weeks and his hands are no longer shaking.

“So?” Cullen asks and even is voice is steady. “It’s up to you.”

Bull’s hands go into fists but he's quiet now, he’s stated enough times that he doesn’t want to put Dorian in any kind of harm’s way until he starts to sound like a petulant child. Ultimately, Bull knows, it’s his decision. Cullen licks his lips and opens his mouth, like he wants to ask again impatient now, but then he closes it trying to respect that Dorian has to think about it.

Dorian has no desire to see Ash, ever again, just the thought brings bile to this mouth. His heart is pounding faster than is comfortable and he rubs his face taking a deep breath.

“My mind hasn’t been entirely my own lately,” he says quietly but pronouncing every word very clearly so there cannot be any confusion. “And I can't lie, it scares me. But one thing I can say for sure: she would not want me to stand by Bull’s side, so at least I know wanting that must be my own doing.” Dorian's throat tightens but he continues. “I can do those things you need me to do. And if it helps Bull and Issala, and everyone else, then I’ll do it.”

It’s quiet for a few moments then Cullen grunts satisfied. “Good man.”

Bull doesn't say anything, he rubs his eye and then slowly looks at Dorian. Dorian expects him to be angry after the heated exchange, but what is it in his gaze? Just gratitude and maybe even relief.

"Thank you," Bull says softly.

***

Now that there's a plan, there are preparations to be made.

Bull disappears for an entire day and doesn't come back until it's dark, tired but satisfied. The plan has been set into motion and it seems to both excite him and worry him, yet his voice is calm and steady as he explains to Dorian what he expects to happen.

"His name is Gatt," Bull says. "We go back a long way, and he won't let me down." But then, after a chuckle: "Probably."

Dorian can't tell if it's supposed to be a joke or not, but Cullen nods.

"Good," he says. "And Sera?"

"As soon as you can get me a time and a place, I can make sure it's cleared out for us," Sera says. "Within reason. I assume she'll want to meet in Lowtown."

"I assume so too," Cullen says. "Krem?"

"I've cleared next few days off work," Krem says. "I'm ready when Bull is."

"Dorian?" Cullen asks then.

"I'm ready," Dorian says. "Since carrying my staff with me would be too much of a give-away, I'll have to cast the spells without, which is quite a lot more intense… but I will wear my potion belt under my coat, I'll take as much lyrium with me as I can." He glances at Cullen from under his lashes but the ex-templar doesn't flinch.

"Good," Cullen says. "Bull, call her and set up the meeting."

***

It turns out Ash can't wait, and the meeting is set up for the next day.

"It's good," Bull assures Dorian as they're getting ready in the morning. He’s tightening the brace on his bad knee, testing it by putting his full weight on it. "If she's too focused on the goal she can't think about the big picture too carefully, more chances she'll be careless."

Dorian nods a little, he's counting his lyrium potions, slotting them into the belt. On top of it he chooses a white loose wrap around shawl that he can easily pull open — he practices the move a few times and Bull watches him with a slight smile.

"What?" Dorian asks, pursing his lips. "I can do it. I used to be unbeatable at the Circle duels, I'll have you know."

"I don't doubt it," Bull grins. "I've just never seen you like this." And then more thoughtfully, "I guess I don't have that much experience with being on this side of the fence with free mages."

Dorian has questions, but they'll have to be left for another time.

Cullen stays behind, and it's clear to see that it frustrates him greatly. He's squeezing the armrests of his wheelchair as Krem pulls up in his truck, the nervous tick returning.

"Sera will be waiting for you there, at the appointed place," Culle says, his voice thin and restrained. "I'll… expect you back soon. All of you."

"Aye, Knight-Commander," Bull says and a vague salute at him — Dorian can see that he's being at least half serious. "We know the drill, you'll see us soon."

Krem's truck is a tight fit, and even with the air conditioner is working overtime Dorian can feel sweat trickling down his back. No one says anything until they're almost there.

"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" Krem says, and even though Dorian expects it to be directed at Bull, Krem's eye flicker between both of them.

"I need you here with the car," Bull says. "Waiting for me and Issala."

Dorian doesn't say anything until he's almost out of the car. He stops at the door, looking back at Krem: the young man has his hand on a gear stick, other on the wheel and he looks, if not relaxed, in control. They have always had a very polite relationship and neither one has tried to push for it to be anything more friendly, before this moment. 

"Thank you," Dorian says and looks him in the eyes.

"Take care of yourself," Krem says with a nod. 

Out of the car the street looks almost abandoned, and before Dorian has time to think Bull takes his hand.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, looking at Dorian seriously.

Chorus of voices in the back of Dorian's mind are screaming _no, no, no, get away, it’s a trap._ And then drowning them, very clearly, Felix's voice: _don't let him go_.

"I do," Dorian says, squeezing Bull's hand. "Let's go."

Ash is waiting for them at the side of a little market square with Issala. She's watching them approach and doesn't seem to think anything of their empty surroundings. All of Dorian's instincts had been screaming danger just seconds ago, yet now, seeing Ash makes him strangely calm. He follows Bull, his hand anchoring him in this strange tranquility.

“Dorian,” Ash says and smiles. “Thank you for coming.”

Dorian has difficulties looking away from Ash even though that had been Bull's explicit instruction. Bull doesn’t let go of Dorian, but he bends down on one knee to Issala instead.

“Hey imekari,” he says softly. “Ready to come with me?”

Issala has been hanging onto Ash’s hand, the boy looks absolutely terrified. Bull coaches the child forward, and he finally has to let go of Dorian who feels like he’s been set adrift, eye of the storm being Ash, pushing him closer. But Dorian pulls in a breath and forces his gaze down, and on to Issala and Bull.

“It’s alright, Issala,” Ash says. “I’ll see you soon. Then we can all be together again.”

“Bull,” the child says, with tears in his eyes but he lets go of Ash’s hand and steps closer to Bull. “Ash will…”

“Shh, it’s okay imekari,” Bull says and his voice is rough with emotion as he picks up the boy. “Everything will be alright, just close your eyes.”

Ash looks like a lion with a fresh kill.

“Dorian, if you’ll come with me we can have a little chat,” she says and smiles again, with teeth showing.

Dorian takes a step forward without thinking and then feels Bull’s hand on his shoulder.

“No,” Bull says and pulls Dorian back. “He’s not coming with you.”

“What,” Ash says with the smile vanishing from her face. “We had a deal.”

“No,” Bull says again. “The deal is off. My offer for you is to walk away, now, and never come back. Start a life somewhere else.”

It’s not quite according to their script, Dorian knows, but he also knows Bull has to give her the chance to absolve himself.

“You can’t be serious,” Ash says, and her face contorts. “I think you’ve misunderstood who is the lamb here and who has the knife. I was willing to send him home with some bad experiences and maybe a few nightmares, but don't you think for a fucking second that I won't end him right here if I have to.”

“The Qun teaches that patience is the manifestation of self-control,” Bull says and his face hardens. “And I have been _ever_ so patient. But no more.”

“No,” Ash says, her face turning pale.

“Dorian, _now_ ,” Bull says as he tightens his arms around Issala. 

“Ash!” Issala screams out, reaching out for his mother but Bull turns on his heels and starts running, cradling the now weeping child.

“Issala—“ Ash starts but never finishes the sentence. 

Dorian raises his hands and casts the static cage around Ash, watching purple sparks envelop her. Ash struggles, her eyes wide, and Dorian breathes out as he steps back, one hand still raised to guide the spell while the other hand unwraps the shawl and fingers find a lyrium vial. It’s almost shocking how fast his mana drains without the staff to focus it, and he flips the cork off as he re-enforces the spell. 

Time passes, and Dorian keeps the spell up. He is vaguely aware of the clink of vials breaking against the stone pavement as he drops them, his eyes locked on Ash’s who’s been able to turn to face him despite the crushing force of the spell keeping her imprisoned. Dorian loses the sense of time, he's sweating and his fingers are slick when he’s feeling his way across the potions belt. Somehow he's down to his last vial, and Dorian pulls it out and downs it, letting his eyes close for a second, his muscles shaking with exhaustion. 

One more spell, then. 

_Please Maker, let Bull be right, let there be help._ If not, it's quite clear from the look Ash is giving him what will happen next.

This time Dorian lifts his both hands and even as the sparks leave his fingers, they are surrounded by a group of elves moving so quiet Dorian had no idea they're there until he can see them. 

“Stop, mage,” one with a square face and sand coloured hair says. “We will take care of this.”

Dorian breathes out and it feels like he can barely stay up, like someone could push him over with a feather. “Are you… Gatt?” he whispers, leaning on his knees, watching as the elves surround Ash, waiting for the spell to dissipate. Somehow Dorian had expected for the Qunari to be, well, more _Qunari_ , but it makes sense for them to be converts instead. 

“I am Gatt,” the elf nods. “Where’s Hissrad? And the child?”

“Not here,” Dorian says and he has to pause, completely out of breath. “Just take her.”

The elves are getting ready to overpower Ash but it still takes all four of them to fight her down. From somewhere Ash has drawn daggers and manages to slash one of the elves before they wrestle her to the ground, and Dorian can smell sickly sweet smell of the deep mushroom as they press a cloth to her face and finally her limbs go slack.

“Wouldn’t it had been easier to just kill her?” Dorian mutters but Gatt ignores his question.

“Your elf friend on the roof has been neutralised,” he says instead, waving up, and shrugs at Dorian’s horrified face. “Unconscious. But otherwise unharmed.” 

Once Ash is out cold the elves quickly tie her hands behind her back and gag her, and even as they’re doing that, a white nondescript van stops next to them. While the elves lift the unconscious Ash to the back of the van, Gatt turns to Dorian, watching him with an unreadable look, not completely unlike the looks Ash had given him. Dorian shivers, avoiding the elf’s eyes.

“Hissrad is playing a dangerous game,” Gatt says. “And some day it will catch up to him. Tell him he better quit while he’s still ahead.”

Two elves get in the back of the van with Ash while the rest climb to the front. Gatt gives Dorian a curt nod and follows them. 

There is no ceremony, and there are no thank you’s or goodbyes.

It’s over.


	14. Life in Technicolor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“With you, intimacy colours my voice._   
>  _even ‘hello’ sounds like ‘come here'.”_   
>  _― Warsan Shire_
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for waiting, friends. Here it is, the final chapter. 
> 
> There's also an epilogue, see link in the end notes.

_6 hours later_

Issala is finally asleep, curled up on Bull’s lap. The boy’s face is still red and blotchy from crying but his breathing is deep and calm, with Bull’s hand lightly wrapped around him. Cullen sits across from them in his wheelchair; the adrenaline long burned has left him quiet and twitchy and he keeps glancing Issala and Bull almost as to check that they’re actually there. He’s not taking part in the quiet conversation between rest of the conspirators – this is not quite a celebration and everyone is still just trying to take the day in.

And at least for Dorian, it feels unreal, still.

Dorian is nodding off on the couch, only half listening to Sera tell her story the third time. His body is exhausted by the spells, his belly comfortably full of food, and he's draped by a warm blanket. Sera's just getting to the part about how she had been woken up on the roof by Dorian, and how the two of them had managed to evade all Qunari spies and make it back home. Truth was something more mundane — they had stayed on the roof for an hour mainly to wait for Dorian's legs to stop wobbling. Sera had spent that time on her phone texting her friends and talking to someone called Jenny, but as far as the information she had been able to get, it had seemed that Gatt, the other elves and their van had pretty much vanished into thin air. 

"I had Dorian's back," Sera says a touch defensively, she had been embarrassed and angry when Dorian had found her, she'd been groggy and just waking up from whatever she had been given. "But I never even saw or heard anything."

"You wouldn't have," Bull says, maybe a little smugly. "I trained Gatt, and he trained his men. They are _good_ for a reason."

It's the first time Dorian has heard Bull has admit that he, too, used to be Ben-Hassrath. 

"He called you—" Dorian says sleepily, trying to remember the word. "He called you _hissrad_. I don't know that word."

"Mhm," Bull says and for a moment Dorian thinks he won't expand on it, but he just stops to shift Issala into a more comfortable position. "A spy." A pause and then a low chuckle. "A _liar_."

"He said that you were playing a dangerous game," Dorian says quietly. "What did he mean by that?"

"He has orders to bring me in," Bull says after another pause. "You don't just _leave_ Qun, let alone Ben-Hassrath. I doubt he knows where I have been all these years, but _I_ knew how to find him and I knew that if there was something they want more than me, it's her."

"Doesn't Kirkwall narrow it down a little bit too much?" Krem asks. "Couldn't they find you now, if they wanted to?"

"Well that's the other advantage of giving them Ash," Bull says shrugging lightly. "Now they owe _me_."

Dorian says nothing, he thinks back on what Gatt looked like when he said those words, and he didn't look like a man who liked owing anyone anything. 

"What about Issala?" Dorian asks instead. "Gatt mentioned him… Wouldn't Issala technically be Vasoth, like Herah?"

Bull's jaw tightens a little, he sighs a little. "I'm… unsure. Technically he was born to a Tal-Vashoth mother which would make him a free Vasoth. However he was conceived by the Qun, his bloodline was planned and calculated by the tamassrans, and his birth was no accident. It would probably depend on them how much they want him back."

He touches the boy's head lightly, not to disturb his sleep. Dorian stretches his legs, nudging them against Bull’s thigh and then closes his eyes, just to rest them. The conversation continues but it quickly fades into an unintelligible murmur as Dorian falls asleep.

_6 days later_

A call from Felix’s lawyer surprises Dorian. 

The conversation is brief and to the point, and Dorian agrees to meet with the man that same afternoon. Dorian is curious and touched that Felix had the energy to remember him, and also slightly perturbed that a young man his age had even drawn up a will. And he’s certainly not prepared for what he finds out.

Somehow he manages to make his way home afterwards and in a daze, knocks on Bull’s door twice before he reads the large note on it. _“Dorian, we’re on the roof. B.”_ He finds Bull with a beer in one hand and tongs on the other, handing out sausages from the grill. Dorian nods at Krem and Aveline, both out of uniform – Krem is wearing a ridiculously loud shirt not entirely unlike the shirts Bull likes, Aveline in faded jeans and a t-shirt though Dorian thinks her posture makes even those look like a uniform. 

“Dorian!” Bull says, his face lighting up. “Hungry?”

“No thank you,” Dorian says and sits down on the last free deck chair and looks around. “Where’s Issala?”

“Nap time,” Bull says. “He’s sleeping in Evelyn’s office. She’ll bring him up when he wakes up.” He watches Dorian for few seconds, observant as ever. “Everything alright?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Dorian mumbles, it’s hardly a topic he wants to bring up in a middle of a group of strangers. 

Aveline eyes him too, but doesn’t say anything, then turning to Bull.

“As I was saying,” she says. “Last of the charges have been dropped, and you can return to work any time you want. You know you have my trust.”

“I know I do, Aveline,” Bull says slowly. “But I know and you know that even though the charges may be dropped it’ll never completely go away. Someone will always be wondering and people will talk. About me, and Krem. About _you_.”

“I don’t care,” Aveline says, but maybe that’s not quite true, judging from the hesitant ways she frowns. “ _I_ know the truth.”

“The thing is,” Bull says slowly and gives Dorian a quick glance. He’s told Dorian about his thoughts so it’s not a complete surprise when he says it aloud. “I’m thinking it’s time to move on. You took me in, Aveline, you gave me a job when I needed it and I’m grateful for that, but I don’t want to be patrolling Lowtown for the rest of my life.”

“Bull—“ Aveline starts but Bull lifts a hand.

“Hear me out. Krem and me have been thinking…” he says and Krem nods in support. “We’re thinking about starting our own business. At first it’d be just me and him, some simple jobs – quick bodyguard jobs, secure deliveries and the like… but if it takes off I think we could eventually hire more people.”

Aveline looks at her hands, her mouth puckering unhappily. “So I’ll not only lose you, but Aclassi too? Don’t tell me you’re planning to get Skinner too?”

Krem keeps his face neutral but Bull looks kind of sheepish. 

“Maker’s breath!” Aveline huffs shaking her head. But a grim smile escapes from a corner of her mouth. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You were always too clever for this job anyway.”

She only stays until she’s finished her food and then excuses herself and leaves Bull and Krem with Dorian. Bull gets a beer for Dorian but doesn’t prompt him again. But it takes only few sips of his beer before Dorian blurts it out.

“Felix left me his share of _Bibliopola_ ,” Dorian breathes. “Which, turns out, is _majority_ of the ownership, after what he inherited from his mother.”

“Shit,” Bull says raising his eyebrows. 

Krem doesn’t say anything but his face seems to echo Bull’s sentiment.

“My thoughts exactly,” Dorian says. 

_6 weeks later_

Dorian and Bull are sitting on a bench overlooking a playground, watching Issala climb up the steps of a slide and then hesitate on the top. He looks down with careful calculating gaze and then to Bull who nods. Issala sits down and slides, his face oscillating between terror and joy, and as soon as he gets to the bottom he runs back to the stairs and starts climbing back up.

“Do you wonder…” Dorian says and then stops, not sure how to bring up his concern.

“Yeah,” Bull says thoughtfully, one glance at Dorian's face is enough for him to guess what this is about. “I do.”

“She was about to call him,” Dorian says quietly. “Before I silenced her. She was going to use Issala’s control word, wasn’t she?”

Bull nods a little. “I think she was.”

They’re quiet for a moment and Issala slides down again, still not quite free of his terror — but then again it seems to be part of the attraction. Issala looks to Bull for another permission before climbing back up.

“And what do you think would have happened?” Dorian asks. “I can’t believe she would have harmed him, but…”

Bull smiles at Issala who's on the bottom of the slide again, giving him a little wave and the boy runs off to the swings.

“But you’re wondering how far she could have gone,” Bull says. “Truth is, there’s no way of knowing. Maybe nothing. Maybe something small.”

“And would it go away?” Dorian asks. “In time, would it fade and be forgotten, or could it still be triggered years later? By accident.”

“I don’t know,” Bull says after a long pause. “But I can’t live my life thinking about it and watching out what I say and do with him. Only thing I can really do is raise him the best I can.”

“I know,” Dorian says softly and leans in a little. “I’d like to think that whatever he was bred and perhaps conditioned to be, can be fixed. That we can fix it.”

He looks up at Bull, and of course Bull catches Dorian’s choice of words. He smiles and leans nuzzle Dorian’s hair gently.

“We?” he asks with a tilted smile. “So you’ve decided not to sell the shop?”

Dorian leans in even though it means he can't see Bull’s face. Bull lifts an arm so Dorian can squeeze in closer, and he presses his head against Bull’s chest.

“I’m good here,” Dorian murmurs.

Bull’s heart under his cheek beats faster.

_6 months later_

Dorian takes a deep breath, takes in the clean smell of snow and smiles up at Issala who’s riding on Bull’s shoulders. It’s First Day of the New Year and when they woke up this morning the ground was covered with a fresh coat of snow. It's not the kind of snow you can make snowmen out of, they find out — Dorian and Bull have neither ever experienced snow and this white powdery stuff doesn't seem to stick together enough to make snowballs, let alone something more substantial, both much to Issala's disappointment. Cullen had laughed and informed them that the snow needed to be more wet for that, but it didn’t stop him for hobbling after Issala in the snow and then pretending to avoid snow the boy was throwing at him.

Now they’re on their way to the central square to see the First Day market and watch the performances by the street performers. Dorian slides his hand into Bull’s and looks back at Cullen and Evelyn who are slowly following them. The snow on the cobblestones would have been too much for the wheelchair so after many angry assurances that he was fine with it and there was no reason to change their plans, Cullen is walking with the help of his cane. He doesn’t look angry now: listening to Evelyn talk his face looks almost soft and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. Dorian quickly hides his own smile by turning to look forward and nudges Bull a little bit nodding back. Bull just grins and doesn’t look surprised.

They eat different foods from the market stalls and watch jugglers and fire-breathers until Issala falls asleep in Bull’s arms. Issala's nightmares used to wake them all up every night but are slowly getting rarer now, but the boy still needs his regular naps, and even though Cullen doesn’t admit it he's been on his feet for too long and needs a break too. 

Four of them sit quietly at a café sipping spiced cinnamon coffee while Issala sleeps tucked between Bull and Dorian when Evelyn starts the conversation.

“Any New Day Resolves, Dorian?” she asks with a smile. “It’s a Tevinter tradition, isn’t it?”

Dorian looks up at her, surprised. “It is, but I don’t think I have made any since I was a boy,” he says. “I guess usually they’re something inane like ‘start going to the gym’ or ‘find love’.”

He bites his tongue, glancing at Bull quickly and decisively not at Cullen, but Evelyn laughs. She’s sitting next to Cullen but not too close, whatever is or isn’t between them seems to be in it’s early stages, and judging from the confused look on his face, Cullen is probably blissfully unaware of it. Yet his body language seems to indicate comfortable intimacy, Evelyn sitting as close as she does.

“Isn’t there anything you want to achieve this year?” Evelyn asks.

“Well,” Dorian says, thinking. “I would like to get Felix’s webstore finally running. I’ve been so busy with figuring out all the practicalities of getting the shop running without Alexius.”

Evelyn nods. “How about you, Bull?”

“I’ve been looking for new people for Chargers and met some interesting people,” Bull says. “I think we can really get this thing going this year. But also—“ he grins and leans over Issala to kiss Dorian on the mouth. “—I would really like to find love.”

He's not the only one.

_6 years later_

“Stop fussing,” Evelyn says and takes the bag from Dorian, somewhat forcefully. “He’s got everything he needs, and if he doesn’t we’ll still manage. And Maker’s tits, it’s only a weekend!”

Bull laughs and pats Dorian on the back but Dorian finds it hard to let go, going through the packing list silently in his head.

“I know you got it, Evie,” Bull says sympathetically. “And as long as he’s got his books you won’t even notice he’s there.”

“He won’t even have time to read,” Evelyn shushes. “And what’s the point of going to a cabin if you’re planning to sit inside all day. There are horses and hikes and Cullen wants to teach him to swim and I can guarantee that by the time it’s time to come inside he’ll be too exhausted to even want to pick up a book.”

This time it’s Bull’s turn to frown. “Swim? I don’t know, my people aren’t exactly built to be…buoyant.”

Dorian tries to suppress a laugh, no matter how much he agrees. But before he has time to reply Issala runs in.

“Come on Evelyn,” the boy says and tugs at her hand. “We’re ready to go, we’ve packed the wheelchair in the car and only thing we need is a driver.”

He gives Bull and Dorian only cursory glances, almost as if he’s afraid they’ll cancel his long awaited trip the last minute.

“Oh come on, you’re not going anywhere without a hug,” Bull says opening his arms. “You’re not too old for that, are you?”

Issala rolls his eyes a little but subjects himself to one of Bull’s bear hugs. He looks at Dorian who gives him a little smirk that means _not if you don’t want to_ but Issala comes and wraps his arms around Dorian anyway. At 9 years old the boy is almost as tall as him and his squeeze is as powerful as an adult man’s though he’s always very careful with Dorian. 

“Just remember to do what Evelyn and Cullen tell you to do,” Dorian says before he catches himself and bites his tongue. “I know you will. You’re a good boy.”

Issala smirks a little and gives Dorian another quick hug before pulling away. 

“Let’s _go_ ,” he grins at Evelyn and runs out.

Evelyn laughs and shrugs following him, only turning the last moment to throw a glance at Bull and Dorian. 

“And you two, behave… I don’t want any complaints from the neighbours waiting for me on my desk when I come back.”

“I will make no such promises,” Bull laughs and Dorian makes no attempt to hide his own grin.

Truth be told, they’ve been waiting for this weekend at least as much as Issala has, and not sooner than the door is closed are they at each other, hands seeking skin, mouths seeking mouths. Dorian moans aloud, deliberately undoing a habit learned from living with a child, lets Bull pick him up and press him against the door, wrapping legs around the man's thick waist. So, first time just like this: needy and rough and urgent, only half undressed, muscles trembling under strain but holding. Bull's hand on Dorian's cock, squeezing and jerking so hard it almost borders on pain, his own cock still trapped under denim but the bulge rubbing against Dorian as a reminder of how much he's wanted. Afterwards Bull lets Dorian slide to the floor and fucks his mouth, his head trapped between the door and Bull's hands and surely if anyone walks by their door Dorian's muffled moans and the scrape of Bull's horns against door are easily heard.

It takes the edge off their desire and they laugh on the floor afterwards, this time kisses linger and tongues taste, as clothes are slowly discarded. Second time they can afford to take their time: Dorian asks for ropes and Bull's breath stops for a second and he nods — this too is an indulgence rarely given into for the lack of time and privacy. But now, Bull takes out loops of rope from the closet, already getting stiff just from watching Dorian climb on the bed, stretching languidly and grinning breathlessly because if he's a sight for Bull's sore eye then the opposite is also true. Dorian watches muscles under the grey skin move and Bull, following his gaze, flexes them a little with a smirk. 

Ropes feel smooth on Dorian's skin and Bull presses him on his stomach, his weight half on Dorian's thighs are a reminder of his power. His hands are gentle but firm, and ropes tighten, pulling Dorian's elbows together and his chest open, loop after another to even out the weight so that nothing digs in. Arms and elbows first, then his ankles to his thighs, and Dorian's breath is already heavy with arousal and anticipation. But Bull takes his time now, letting his fingers lovingly drag on skin feeling it raise into goosebumps, listening to breath catching. Then, his fingers spreading Dorian, slick and pushing into his heat of his body and Dorian spreads his legs as much as the ropes allow him. Bull, leaning over to kiss him on the mouth, eating the moans from his lips as he uses his fingers to make them louder.

This second time there's no hurry. Arousal has time to build up into want and then into _need_ , and Bull teases Dorian with all the patience that Dorian doesn't have. The teasing continues until the ache to be inside his lover overrides his need to hear Dorian beg, to see him trembling with his mouth open as sweat makes his hair stick to his face. That first thrust in, assuredly one of the best feelings in the world, makes it all worth it, both of them moaning as from one mouth. Even release takes it's sweet time, Dorian gasping for air as wave after wave of pleasure hits him and he struggles against the ropes and weight of Bull's body against him, until Bull's soothing voice and hands reach him from his high and he finally relaxes.

Ropes are released slowly, aching joints massaged. They both need a break then, before the third time that they know is coming and Bull brings food and drink to bed on a small tray he's undoubtedly prepared earlier. Dorian insists on being fed with an indigence of a spoilt child and Bull obliges, as Dorian knows he would, wrapping rich creamy pieces of avocado in thin slices of cured ham and feeding them to him with his fingers. There are little skewers of fruit: rich juicy pineapple with strawberries and a leaf of mint and Bull leans in to kiss Dorian's mouth to lick the juice off his lips, chasing the sweetness with his tongue. Dorian's breathing changes but it's too soon, even if he wanted to he couldn't get hard again quite yet, so he just enjoys the warm buzz of stirring desire without the need to do anything about it.

Third time is pure intimacy of fluid movement. Now face to face, it starts with Bull's kisses on Dorian's stomach, then his mouth coaxing Dorian's cock from flaccid to full hardness while keeping his eye on Dorian's face, always watching. They make love like this: eyes locked and fingers intertwined, Bull's hips moving slow and lazy, stopping only to make sure Dorian can take more. He never speeds up and it builds up like that, from unhurried movement until Dorian almost weeps hanging on the edge of his orgasm that seems to last forever until Bull himself comes, and the pulsing of his cock deep inside Dorian finally makes him tip over.

They sleep deep uninterrupted sleep, and dream of nothing but happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you still with me? 
> 
> Great, because I love every single one of you and this story wouldn't exist without you. And because no story is born in a vacuum, I have a few special thank yous before you go...
> 
> For tealjay - my best friend and my beta who has been with me from the very earliest stages of this story. You can thank her for Cullen's happy ending - we were playing The Descent DLC and I was enamoured with the lyrium veins in the Deep Roads and was all set out to explore lyrium addiction and bad ending when she told me in no uncertain terms that she would not read anything where Cullen would end up unhappy. Then she had a dream about Cullen in a wheelchair and his story started to form in my head. I also wrote a large part of Felix's final chapter when I was missing her terribly after her last visit (we live on different continents and don't get to see each other nearly as much as we would need to). 
> 
> For nyagosstar and their story [No More Waiting](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5365613) that was a big influence on how I wanted to portray Cullen. If you haven't read it, go read!
> 
> For Dragonflies_and_Katydids and her stories that got me back into writing after many years of not writing a word. Her fics were a big inspiration for me when I fell face first into Adoribull fandom, and reading her works (especially [Power of Two](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4258899)) made me want to try my hands on a longer story. This is the longest story I've ever written and I don't know if I would be here now had it not been for her. She has also been very patient listening to my creative pains and whining while keeping a cool head, for which I'm very grateful.
> 
> And for _everyone_ who left a comment or kudos, but especially for those who kept coming back chapter after chapter. Seriously, I am humbly yours and every single comment and kudos is important to me.
> 
> But wait what. What's that I hear you say? You want to know happened to Ash? Just for you, I have the [Epilogue](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6374296). I hope it is everything you ever wanted.


End file.
